The Quality of the Sword
by XMMishimaX
Summary: During Tekken 3, Two former rivals have made peace. When Jin has had enough of living the life Heihachi has planned, he finds himself at Hwoarangs door, he discovers the Blood Talons rivalry was not what all it appeared to be. Hwojin YAOI.
1. Chapter 1

The Quality of the Sword (is Determined by the Wielder of the Flame)

Chapter 1 The Disquiet of the Forge

Jin knocked quietly on the door of the suite reserved for one of the King of Iron Fist 3 Tournament competitors, namely, his only former rival. The occupant, he doubted would be home, but he had to try...he could not spend another night at the Mishima Estate...not after the coarse words his grandfather had uttered coupled with the firm backhand, all derived from a simple request...to learn about Jin Kazamas deceased Father, Kazuya Mishima.

Heihachi refused to yield to the inquisitive mind of the 19yr old prodigy..the child of Kazuya Mishima and Jun Kazama, borne from wedlock...and orphaned now that Jun had been taken by the thing..Toshin. Although Jin had been living with Heihachi for two years now, had been granted the gift of learning the ancestral art of his Mishima bloodline, Grandfather had been cold, austere...negligent...and completely refusing to discuss the life and death of Kazuya Mishima. Was it not natural for Jin to ask this? Was it disrespectful to wish to honor Kazuya with more than just the striking appearance that made those who knew Jins' Father gasp to see the boy, believing it to be the deceased Mishima returned from the grave?

That is what led Jin to Hwoarangs door this night. That is what led Jin to have his eye blackened by the hand of Heihachi Mishima...knocking on the door, this night.

The teenaged, feisty martial artist had been a rival and only recently a respectful bond of near friendship had formed. And in this hour of need, Jin came knocking softly to Hwoarangs chamber door. All other rooms in Hotel were shored up for the remaining King of Iron Fist competitors, and should one have been available, Jin kept no money on his person. Although wealthy, Jin was not privileged to have a hand hold on more than a few yen at a time. The wealth, the home, the terms of all things, the rules of every game..belonged only to Heihachi Mishima.

The knock came more intense now as Jin felt himself ready to break down, to sob or scream, for the loss of all things...of all comforts.. .

"What in the hell!" Hwoarang answered to the incessant knock, the Korean youths pants half undone, barefoot, no shirt clinging to his lithe, muscular form. Brushing a hand back through his unnatural deep coppery red, unkempt mane his eyes widened to see Jin there, one arm braced on the door frame, the other poised to knock...again. "Kazama?"

Jin looked up beneath thick black tendrils, his almond eyes holding Hwoarangs amber orbs. "Forgive me...I...needed a place to go and I did not know where else...to go." He said in a soft broken breath, averting his eyes from Hwoarangs. Had Heihachi been there to see it, a swift backhand would have followed. _You never avert your eyes from another man, Jin, lest you show who is the weaker of the two. No cub of mine will show weakness...weakness is too closely linked with defeat. _

Hwoarang grasped Jin by the hand poised to knock. "No, man. No forgiveness needed, come in." The Korean drew Jin into the lavish suite, granted to the martial artists of the Tournament at no charge. One of the nicest places Hwoarang had been in, ever. "Damn Kazama, you look like shit.. What happened to your face?" Hwoarang asked, quirking a brow. Jins distress was deeper than the bruise that showed, it was palpable, almost...tangible. "I thought you were as good as me, well enough to fight me to a draw anyway...someone get a sucker punch on you or are you just going soft?" He tried to break the tension with a snicker, banter Jin had grown used to from the upstart.

Jin closed the door behind him, brushing a hand through his mane as he looked up to see a trail of clothing leading to the bedroom. Hwoarang had a guest, a trendy female by the look of the discarded western style clothing. "I...wasn't sure you would be here." Jin said despondently, "But I can see I have interrupted..."

Hwoarang shook his head, grasping his pack of menthols and tapping it till one long white cylinder was released from the soft pack. "Its nothing, man." He said with a smile and a twinkle in his eye as he cupped his hand before his face, sparking the cigarette to life. "Make yourself comfortable, give me a minute to square things away with my 'guest'."

Jin nodded, feeling horribly out of place. He could have gone to Lings' suite but he knew she would not understand as a ward of the Mishima Zaibatsu, and certainly not the way another male friend could. Or so Jin hypothesized. The Young Kazama had no friends, only acquaintances.

It was unlike Jin to show emotion, leaving him often considered to be sullen and withdrawn when in truth, he felt he did not fit in anywhere anymore. Slowly lowering himself to the couch, Jin let his elbows hold to his knees, head falling into his hands.

Hwoarang walked into the bedroom after gathering clothing and tossing them into the confines of the suite. "Something's come up." He said flatly before closing the door behind them.

A moment later he returned, crushing his cigarette into the receptacle by Jin, picking up his mesh shirt and sliding it over his lithe, muscular form. "Situation taken care of. Now, what the hell is going on?" He said, flopping down into the chair opposite of the couch, legs parted, pants still half hanging open. Hwoarang dripped his head back for a moment to gather his baring.

Jin averted his eyes, feeling a blush come to his features. He hadn't noticed how tone and firm his former rival had been and it felt.. inappropriate to stare at Hwoarangs physique. The guest who had been occupying the Blood Talon, as Hwoarang was disaffectionately nicknamed, strode silently from the confines of the bedroom, pausing to slide her feet into sling back shoes before walking out, without another word.

"Don't call me, I'll call you." Hwoarang said with a snicker that still oozed charm, eliciting a sideways smile from the female as she left, closing the door behind her. "Now, back to you. What's going on, Jin?"

Hwoarang listened as Jin paced, one hand in his hair as he moved. This was the most animated the young Kazama had ever been in his presence, a moment when the veil of self control seemed torn and a glimpse of the maelstrom within Jin flowed freely, easily. "So you were asking all these questions to gramps after you spoke to Wulong? Do you think super cop is telling the truth, about your father and all?" He asked with innocence, his long toned legs pulled beneath him Indian style, a tray braced between his thighs as he rolled a slim, unfiltered cigarette. Hwoarang had no love for the police. No criminals ever did.

Jin looked over to Hwoarang and shook his head. "I don't know, Hwoarang. I don't know what to believe anymore. The more questions I have, the less the potential to answer them becomes." Jin removed his hand from his already taloused, thick obsidian mane, brushing off his slacks and straightening the tapered white shirt that hung loose from his form, a single button undone to break the severity of his look.

"Well, Jin, you are welcomed to stay with me for as long as you want before the Tournament ends and I become the new rich bitch in town." The Blood Talon smiled with his usual arrogance before realizing it had not hit its mark with Jin. "I mean your gramps is paying for this lovely suite, so its no skin off my back. Besides, the longer you stay away from gramps the better, right?" Hwoarang said with that feisty, charming, half cocked smile, looking up beneath errant copper tendrils, drawing the newly rolled cigarette to his lips to seal the white paper around the contents.

"I cant hide from him...there is no honor in that, yanno?" Jin said, uncharacteristically. "I mean, I owe him so much of my life. Can I really blame him for not wanting to speak about a son that lives no more?" Jin halted his pacing, coming to a standstill has he looked into Hwoarangs amber eyes with such intense sincerity it made the Blood Talons heart wretch. "I lost a father I never knew, but he lost a son he raised all of his life. He must have loved my father...he had to have. You wouldn't have a child if you didn't?" Jin was voicing his thoughts out loud. "I cant even imagine what pain grandfather must be in..to know my father died during that match in the last King of Iron Fist tournament...even if it was an accident. But from what Wulong tells me, it was no accident...but that cant be so."

Hwoarang shook his head. "Man, you need to come here and sit down, take a few hits off of this and stop your rambling. I guarantee a few hours of inner peace. And maybe some massive munchies." The young Korean laughed softly, but warmly. "Come on, lets get unwound! Its a wonder you ever survived without me in your life, man. It just so happens I have the ability to help get that stick out of your ass and not leave ya too many splinters."

Jin shook his head and found himself breaking a smile. Hwoarang did have this way about him that just oozed comfort, charm even in his more rugged street tough manner. Hwoarang was a leader...something to be observed, envied...since Jin himself had been a quiet follower up until this very moment where disobedience rang from his lips like an arrow from a bow. Slowly, the young Kazama drew alongside the couch, crossing his legs toward Hwoarang who had not moved from the reclining chair opposite of him. "I don't smoke." He said simply, letting his head tip back.

"You do now, Kazama. Besides its not a cigarette, its better." Hwoarang said with a laugh that captivated Jins curiosity and at the same time made him feel..comfortable. Hwoarang sparked the slim rolled cigarette to life, the smoke instantly cloy and strongly herbed, a fragrance Jin had never before scented and it filled him, instantly. He watched how his counterpart drew in a deep but puckered breath, holding the smoke in his lungs for a long moment before releasing and repeating. On the second inhalation, Hwoarang handed the slim cigarette to Jin, who looked at it quizzically, finding his throat going cottony and dry.

"I have never done this before." Jin said, watching the embers before looking back to Hwoarang, who exhaled slowly with a soft, contented sigh.

"Your safe, your with me. What could possibly go wrong?" Hwoarang said with dazzling charm, a smile that could melt the ice from the Antarctic.

"Famous last words." Jin said with a snicker and drew the whet paper to his lips, tasting the sweet herbal flavor mixed with Hwoarangs moist kiss to the cylinder. Hesitantly, he inhaled, drawing the cigarette from his lips as he fought to keep the burning smoke in his lungs, his shoulders wracked and heaving. Jin finally let out the smoke with a sharp exhale, trying to pass off the cigarette to Hwoarang, who was laughing as he watched Jin cough and spasm. "Oh, god damn." He finally made out.

Hwoarang refused to accept the cigarette. "The rotation is puff, puff, pass. You got another hit coming. This time don't try to hold back the cough, let it out, it brings your head up." He said with a wriggle of his sculpted eyebrows. Had Jin never known Hwoarang to have street credibility, he would have sworn the Korean was pure trendy pretty boy...a club rat or raver with cash to burn. Hwoarang was all of those, in reality, but that cash to burn came from hustling, fighting, gangs. The Blood Talon was passionate to a fault, to a deadly fault if underestimated.

Jin tried to wave off the cigarette once more as his breathing returned to normal. His system was nothing but pure and this intrusive smoke burned and stung all the way to his gut. "I don't think I can...everything burns."

"Sure you can, oh god damn it don't be a pussy." Hwoarang said as he shook his head side to side, setting the tray of herbs on the floor beside the chair. With his hand he took the cigarette and rolled to a stand. "Alright, I will help you out with this but just this one time, since your a newbie."

Jin looked up through glassy eyes as Hwoarang sat down beside him, facing him and he turned instinctively as though instructed to do so. "What do I have to do?" He said with a swimmy sensation in his head. Jin tried to shake the cobwebs away and found he was on the verge of laughter when he swore he felt his head was light enough to fall from his shoulders.

"Alright, this is called Shotgun. Now, listen up. Close your eyes and open your mouth. I will take a hit and blow it into your lips, but you have to suck it in while I blow, got it?" Hwoarang said, tapping the ash from the bone.

"Your going to..blow the smoke into my lips. Why do I have to close my eyes, its not a kiss or anything..." Jin said with little abandon, not realizing just how ludicrous that sounded until it left his lips.

"Well you can keep your eyes open, but that means seeing my ugly mug coming at ya. Your choice, man." Hwoarang said with a snicker, his voice edged in guttural Korean..and yet..still pleasant. "Don't go getting all queer on me. I have heard about you rich boys."

Jin laughed, visibly, his body relaxing. "Not my style. Not that I have ever kissed anyone unless it was my mothers cheek." He shrugged, trying to hold a straight face as Hwoarang drew the smoke into his lips, the embers flaring at the edge of the slim cigarette.

Hwoarang moved in slowly, drawing his body closer to Jins with such sensual, leonine movements. Purely captivating.

Instinctively, Jin leaned in and kept his eyes open, even as Hwoarang drew nearer, his lips parting as slow rolls of smoke slid from the depth of the Koreans mouth. Lips parted, Jin felt the nearness as Hwoarangs lower lip scantly touched his own...eyes open...connected...Hwoarang let gentle trails of smoke into Jins mouth..to which he sucked back slowly...more languidly...transfixed on both the taste entering his senses...and the awareness that came with being so close to his former rival.

Hwoarang held himself still with practiced ease, his lower lip against Jins..for stability he told himself...his amber eyes taking in the heat of Jins abysmal depths, finding them doe like...beautiful...sad but beautiful. There was heat in that small space between them and Hwoarang was in no great race to withdraw the closeness...as if Jins being in such close proximity felt...good, almost right.

When the last of the smoke had passed from Hwoarang to Jin, the Korean youth slowly slid back, eyes transfixed on Jins, watching how beautiful his former rivals mouth bowed to accept the smoke and release it with slow control.

Jin swallowed, his mouth feeling dry and yet his gut feeling..jittery...as if the young Kazama had worked through a host of Katas on an empty stomach. The room seemed to spin and it was not from the cloy, heavy smoke. After a long moment of silence and connected eyes, Jin finally spoke, exhaling completely. "You are..not..you do not..have an ugly mug, up close anyway..." Jin tried to catch himself but the words spilled fast from his lips.

Hwoarang smiled, trying to laugh off the intensity and heat he felt slither between them, pressing back on the couch as he took another hit from the slim rolled cigarette. "That's just the herb talking, man." He had to stay cool, had to keep his head about him...he could fall into Jin too easily, fall beyond the limits of someone so confused and innocent.

"And if I said it..it wasn't the herb?" Jin said, biting the edge of his lip, brazen and suddenly chemically unafraid. Everything was moving in slow motion, everything felt calm, serene. The way Hwoarang laid back on the couch was the most provocative sight Jin Kazama had ever seen...and where sobriety might have discouraged him, disgusted him away from being so truthful...at the moment his courage was steadfast and blazingly innocent.

Hwoarang crushed what remained of the burnt down cylinder, tossing a pillow at Jin. "I would still say your fucked up, Kazama. Enjoy the high, let it ride through you."

Jin looked away, feeling blazingly hot and ashamed at the same time. He let the pillow hit against him, sending him back against the arm of the couch, opposite of Hwoarang. "I am suddenly, really hungry..."

Hwoarang laughed. "Your going to be the death of me, Kazama. Come on, get yourself together, we will take a walk down the street for some food."

Jin looked horrified. "I cant go out like this! Everyone will know I just smoked..that stuff!"

"Paranoia is a bitch. Besides your with me, what could possibly happen?" Hwoarang said with a smile, standing wobbly and buttoning his form fitting jeans.

"Famous last words. Wait, did I say that already?" Jin asked, laughing at himself and the odd sensations filling him.

Jin awoke on the couch, half undressed and face down. For a moment he had to reorient himself to where he was...what had happened...and as relaxed as his body felt, pangs of fear slid through the young Kazama. Shooting upward, Jin rubbed his eyes, his head clearing of smoke but still feeling somewhat..foggy. Standing and stretching, Jin walked toward the bathroom just outside of Hwoarangs bedroom in the suite. The door was closed most of the way, but enough to see movement from within...hear the movement of the mattress squeaking under strain...

Jin tried not to look but could not help himself, his control was not yet where it should have been, where it had been two nights ago. Through the break in the door where it did not meet the jamb, Jin could see Hwoarang...the redhead naked and uncovered...arching into the heat of a lover beneath him, face down as the Korean thrust between widely spread legs and slightly upraised hips. The mattress squealed in protest and recoiled to match the thrust, like a competitor going blow for blow to win the title and trophy.

Hwoarang's backside clenched as his head rolled back. "Sweet Jesus...Ahh god damn!" He groaned, stilling his movements as back muscles tensed. There was a long moment of silence and the redhead slowly slid out of his lovers core, disjoining them to carefully remove the spent condom that hung full at the tip. "I have to dispose of this...Don't go anywhere..." He said, standing shakily, one hand braced around the base of the prophylactic.

Jins eyes widened as he realized Hwoarang intended to dispose of the latex in the bathroom...precisely where he was heading. With quick, catlike motions, Jin reversed his movements and came to lay face down on the couch, stilling his breaths, forcing his eyes to close as he heard Hwoarang's footsteps, heavy and unbalanced...his breath thick and heated...heading toward the bathroom.

After several long moments, Hwoarang emerged once more, peeking over the couch to see if Jin had moved since leaving him there the night before. Hungry as Jin was, he hadn't made it out of the suite, overcome and seduced into sleep by the calming herb he had smoked. Satisfied, Hwoarang returned to the bedroom as Jin perked up to listen as deftly as possible.

"Alright, be quite and slip out of here before my friend wakes up. Don't give me that look, clean yourself up when you get to wherever the hell you live." Hwoarang said, sparking a cigarette to life, brushing his hand through his freshly washed hair.

Jin heard footsteps and closed his eyes until they were an imperceptible sliver to see the mysterious stranger Hwoarang brought to his bed, with odd and eager fascination. He kept still as Hwoarang's lover approached, sliding hand to the door to open it as soundlessly as possible...and in that moment, Jin bolted upright...shocked...that the lover who left his friends room...was male...a slight, lithe but raver style beauty...with long unkempt black hair...dressed in bright colors and form fitting clothing.

"What the hell?" Jin called out, startled, everything hazy and nonsensical.

Hwoarang emerged from the bedroom, dressed and drew along the side arm of the couch where Jin sat up, holding his head. "Sorry, I didn't want anyone waking you. Looks like you had the first good nights sleep in a long time, Kazama." The young Korean said with a cool steady smile.

"Who the hell is this?" was all Jin could make out without giving way to what he had seen and heard.

Hwoarang looked to the male that had been his lover through the night last night. "Oh this is my friend,..um, what the fuck is your name again?"

The male turned, eyes shifty and unbalanced..like a cat caught in the garbage pile. "Miyiko" He said softly, blushingly.

"That's right, Miyiko, from the club...he was a little fucked up so I offered him the floor to sober it up abit." Hwoarang countered with cool brilliance. It would have been convincing if Jin hadn't seen otherwise.

"When did we go to the club? I don't remember that?" Jin said, giving Hwoarang an innocent look.

"Well um,. we didn't. I did. You crashed on the couch before we could even get some snacks...so, feeling feisty, I figured fuck it, let me hit the nightlife and let you get some sleep." Hwoarang said, nodding to Miyiko to get moving...and he did, quickly.

"Nice to meet you, Miyiko!" Jin said rubbing his eyes and falling back against the couch. But Miyiko was long gone, door open behind him which Hwoarang closed quickly enough.

"So, how are you feeling this morning, man?" The Korean asked with a smile, flicking the ashes of his cigarette into the receptacle beside Jin.

Jin looked to Hwoarang with pure wonder, having never suspected his former rival to have enjoyed the pleasure of another mans company. Jin tried to recall the term, "Bisexual". He settled on it quickly enough...all of this going through his mind in the flash of an eye. "A little foggy. Definitely hungry. What time is it?"

"Its just after 6 in the morning." Hwoarang said, stretching his legs with side kicks till his hips cracked and warmed..holding it for impossibly long before switching to the next. "You have a match this morning?"

"No, not today..tomorrow morning. But you do, dont you?" Jin said, finding himself flushed and forced to look away as Hwoarang stretched away the nights..activities.

"Yup, taking on little Julia Chang. Cute stuff. I would hate to damage the goods." Hwoarang said with a smile, bringing his leg down and around, showing once more the exceptional control his own art form gave to him. Jins muscles suddenly strained and screamed that he should be stretching as well. For what little Jin knew of TaeKwonDo, he did understand it was as taxing as any other art, save for the extreme brutality of Mishima style Karate...his ancestral art mingled with KazamaRyu defense that he had learned long ago from his mother.

"I wouldn't underestimate her. I understand her mother was one hell of a competitor." Jin said, stretching and realizing he was sans shirt. With wide eyes he reached for the garment discarded at some point during the night and sliding it on, though not yet buttoning it.

"One night with me and I already have you close to swearing." Hwoarang laughed. "Don't worry about Julia, I do know how to treat a lady...when she isn't standing in the way of me and a healthy sum of money, that is." He changed the subject with a smile, crushing his cigarette. "So, do you have any clothes or anything else with you? You cant exactly run through a match or a form without your dobuk, can you?"

"Form? You mean Kata. Yeah..I do need my Gi and equipment, some clothes. I guess I have to figure out when I can get into the estate and gather my stuff unnoticed. My bike is there too." Jin said, moistening his lips trying to fight off the cottonmouth...and the vivid realization that he had..made a pass at Hwoarang last night...how disgusting and uncharacteristic in his weakness!

"Tell you what, come out to the site with me and once I whoop Julia's' ass, Ill ride you out to gramps 'estate' and get your stuff. IF he is there, he cant take us both on at the same time, now can he? Safety in numbers, man." Hwoarang said with a smile.

"You don't know Heihachi Mishima." Jin said, unsurely, shaking his head once more. "I don't think even I know Heihachi Mishima."

Jin stood back in the Zen gardens, leaning against the wealth of perfectly pruned trees as he watched the local law enforcement inform other would be spectators that the match scheduled in this sacred place was off limits. The Young Kazama himself had no difficulty once the officers realized that he had infact been the main sponsor of the tournament even if backed by the Mishima Zaibatsu's endless coffers.

With steady eyes and folded hands against his chest, Jin watched as Hwoarang slowly paced before the vision of Julia Chang, the young Native American female offering prayers to the Spirits of her Tribe, asking for blessing and victory.

The Redhead showed his hotheaded nature in the very leonine pacing. His TaeKwonDo uniform hung open, a dobuk Hwoarang had called it, his long pants trailing the floor, heavier than Jins own Gi...giving it a certain crackle and snap, akin to fire, as the Korean worked his forms. Jin could not help but admire Hwoarang and from a distance he was safe to do so without the fear of retribution...or rejection.

Jin recalled quite well, considering his mental state, his sudden desire for Hwoarang...the feel of his former rivals lower lip against his as the Korean blew slow billowing smoke into the heat of his mouth. The sensation was acute and eager, wanton and it tugged at his core...as much as it had to see Hwoarang with his male lover...a rather fortunate discovery...for Jin to have made.

Now, Jin stood stone still against the tree watching as the match began..as the thin trickles of sweat clung to the physique of the TaeKwonDo artist...how perfectly poised and accentuated each kick had come, how completely magnificent every arrogant movement was made. The thought made Jin thicken in his slacks, shifting the hands in his pockets to hide the sudden large intrusion that jutted outward so eagerly. Hwoarang was everything Jin respected, a rogue yes...but one who lived in with his own code of honor, free and independent, arrogant and feisty in all the ways Jin was not.

Time lapsed quickly when Jin realized all of his heated musings were drawn to the single moment Hwoarang had completed the Falcon Dice Throw..and leveled his opponent, now declared in victory over Julia Chang.

Jin kept to the shadows even as Hwoarang turned his eyes in the direction where he had last left Jin, smiling with pure arrogance and radiant control as he rolled his neck side to side to release the tension. Slowly, the Korean made his way to Jin, a gleam in his eye. "This calls for celebration, Kazama. If you win that slot of yours tomorrow, seems we finally have that rematch on our hands after all."

"What an interesting prospect for the both of us." Jin said with a downward tilt to his chin. "So, are you going to be showering up or are we riding to the Mishima Estate as you are?"

Hwoarang licked his lips slowly, scenting something provocative about Jin, even as he stood, still and even wearing yesterdays clothing. "I can go like this, gives me some greater flexibility in the event gramps has some issues with what we are doing." He said with a smile, finding himself unable to keep his eyes from looking up and down Jins austere form. "Lets rock."

Jin held firm to Hwoarang's waist as the pair rode to the Mishima estate, feeling an odd, strangely powerful heat burning through his core. Never had Jin imagined he would be this close to his former rival in this way, the thick vibration of the motorcycle beneath his thighs. If Hwoarang felt the intense pressure on the small of his arched back, he said nothing...and Jin held tighter, closer...thankful the pressure and heat of the moment was taken in sharp moans from his lips by the wind...

Jin was astraddle his own motorcycle now, clad in the leather riding gear Heihachi had purchased for him, along with the bike for his 18th birthday. The attendants had given the young Master little problem when he came to collect his things, held in a duffle strapped to his bike. Once Jin found out that Grandfather had been at the Zaibatsu, it gave him much needed time to pack what he could, quickly. Only the essentials came with Jin. Namely, his gi and sparring equipment, the photo album he had taken from his mother long ago at the time of her death, the newspaper clipping of Kazuya Mishima...and clothing enough to last him for a few days. He also brought with him the yen he had saved up, secretly, over the past two years. It might well be all the money he would have left when things were said and done.

Now, Jin Kazama followed Hwoarang back to the hotel, his eyes fixed on the road and the backside of the one who rode ahead of him. Jin knew his thoughts were whirling and he fought hard to keep them on the road, lest he crash and burn then and there..and never live up to his potential.

Hwoarang stood before his bike, dragging from the cool menthol cigarette in his fingertips. The smoke was smooth, eager and familiar and all the blood talon needed at this moment to make peace with his victory. Amber eyes watched as Jin unstrapped his duffle, drawing the heavy contents up to his well muscled shoulders. Hwoarang could see the curve of Jins bicep as it flexed to stabilize the weight. It was possible that the Blood Talon had never before known one who could look so strong and be so...gentle. It had been fascinating to catch Jin in his moments of unguarded quiet and contemplation, the heat of deep brown eyes as they strained to find purpose to his path. Jin had never before seemed so beautiful...even if Hwoarang had felt the draw to him, the chemistry between them..from that very first fight on the streets of Korea. He never imagined he could have wanted more at that moment from Jin than the money Heihachi had laid on the line as the brawl ensued. Leave it to the Japanese to always put honor on the line with their yen. Honor was something much harder fought in the streets of Korea when all you had was your name and your ambitions.

They had fought then, to a draw...and that fight stayed with the blood talon like a sting on the roof of his mouth, tongue unable to stop flicking at the anguished flesh...it felt good, even if enjoying it was wrong. Jin had departed then, when all was said and done...and now, a year later they had come together again. At first, Hwoarang mused, there had been banter, slights, challenges...all from his own lips when he had encountered Jin at the kick off celebration for the King of Iron Fist Tournament 3. But Jin never rose to those, keeping himself disgustingly graceful and accommodating.

But Hwoarang liked that, secretly. He liked the way Jin kept himself under control, kept his boundaries, his guard...holding it sacred. It was rare to see that kind of tenacity when so many jaded accompaniments followed the Blood Talon in his day to day life.

If Baek Do San could see him now, Hwoarang thought as he flicked his ashes. When the TaeKwonDo master had found him, Hwoarang had been nothing but orphaned street trash, running with his gang...no ambition other than to swindle enough money for food and drink..and maybe a pack of smokes. But beneath Baek Do Sans tutelage, the Blood Talon started to blossom, to learn...to garner ambition with skill and desire. But, Hwoarang could not turn his back on his only family..his gang. And in the end felt he had turned his back on Baek Do San...whose whereabouts remained unknown, even if the rumor of his death was everywhere.

The fiery Korean shook his head to clear the thoughts as he looked to Jin, who was drawing closer now that the burden of the bag he carried was shouldered. "Come on, Kazama. I am sure you need a shower. I know I do." Hwoarang said with a smile.

Jin nodded softly, brushing his hand back through his mane. "Yeah, I really could use one." He said thoughtfully, following Hwoarang to the elevator. "Hey, I didn't get to say it before but that was an impressive victory. You really took it to Julia."

The Blood Talon laughed. "Don't go blowing smoke up my ass, Kazama, you might lose your heart for that rematch." Hwoarang gave a side smile, his amber eyes glistening. "Or I might like it."

Jin smirked, shaking his head slightly. "You don't know how to deal with a compliment." ...or..was that a proposition.

Jin wiped his hand across his brow, removing the glistening droplets of sweat before the cool trickle could make it to his eyes. His Katas were sharp, well practiced and the young Kazama moved with the fluidity of a dancer as his muscles breathed the thick warmth of such familiar motions.

Jin had decided to run through forms as Hwoarang showered, giving the young Kazama the privacy he needed to devote to his art. He moved the furniture far enough over to give him room for the most basic motions, for the rest a dojo or cleared room would be required. However, improvisation being the mother of invention, Jin found it better to activate the muscles even in a limited capacity...rather than forego the exercise all together and meet his opponent tomorrow unprepared.

Hwoarang stood against the door frame leading out of the bathroom. The heavy breathing and focusing Ki drawing the Blood Talons attention as he showered and dressed. The sound of Jin reached him even in those walls and heated his blood to imagine the beautiful Kazama soaked in sweat, heated and eager...for purposes completely unrelated to forms and Katas. Hwoarang watched the shirtless Jin closely, noting every developed muscle from the contraction of the Young Kazamas perfectly sculpted torso to the heated flexation of Jins glistening arms. He was hauntingly beautiful and the peak of physical perfection in the Blood Talons eyes.

Hwoarang kept silent as Jin slowly drew up from the long, imposing and apparently strenuous Kata. The motions were intricate and subtle to the untrained eye, but the Blood Talon could see every nuance of detail below the surface of repetitive motions. Once Jin exhaled sharply, signifying then motion was complete, Hwoarang withdrew a lighter from his pocket, sliding a menthol to his lips.

"Impressive." Hwoarang said with a smile, looking up through the flame to Jin.

"Thanks." Jin replied with an almost embarrassed tone as he reached for his button down shirt, sliding it over his glistening features...the silken material clinging to the perfect musculature of his whet skin. Brushing his hand through his hair he smiled shyly, wondering how long the Blood Talon had been watching him...finding that thought to be...a source of heat beneath his skin. "I thought a little meditation and form would help prepare me for tomorrow morning. I have fought against the 'jacks' before...during my training with Grandfather. I have a feeling this time, there will be no punches held when I step into the ring."

Hwoarang nodded, brushing back his coppery tendrils as he rolled his neck to the side to ease the tension from his earlier fight..the tension from seeing Jin standing before him like a glistening warrior. _This has to stop. _The Blood Talon whispered into his own thoughts. _You can not keep looking at him this way..thinking about him in this way. We are friends, rivals...and that is what it is._ "Well, I am sure the Ol' man will have some tricks up his sleeve, but don't worry, I will be there at the match tomorrow, just incase you need me there." The Blood Talon said with an arrogant smile.

"I have already drawn you into this far enough." Jin said sternly, dragging the furniture back to its rightful place on the carpet.

"Drawn me in? Come on, Kazama, I have taken tougher than Heihachi Mishima. And, if you think that me having you crash here while you get your head straight is 'drawing you in too far', then you don't know me...and what I do for my friends." Hwoarang said with a snicker, drawing over to the chair Jin had just moved, plopping down into the cushiony softness.

Jin looked up over his shoulder, his hands pausing the search through his hastily packed duffle for a fresh change of clothes. The young Kazama had never really had friends...class mates, yes, but the fierce resemblance to his father and the legend that still lingered in that school about Kazuya kept many away. With the exception of Ling Xiouyou, a Ward of the Mishima Zaibatsu and Martial Artist with incredible skill...who happened to have a resounding crush on Jin...there were no others.

Most of Jins classmates had one or both parents in that school so long ago when the Young Kazuya Mishima had been a solemn yet undeniable presence and now Jin was reaping the silence his father must have felt himself. But Hwoarang was right, through rivalry they had become friends and that bond was growing thicker and more intricate with each passing moment.

A confliction of emotion rose in Jins deep brown eyes as he met the Blood Talons amber orbs. He could feel his own breath hitch with the tension between them. Once, the tension was rivalry...or so Jin had thought...but now, the very same feeling in the pit of the young Kazamas stomach felt more important...almost aching. The feeling made Jin shiver so deeply that it echoed between his thighs with an almost agonizing but exquisite pain. _If Hwoarang enjoys the...intimate..companu of others..why not me? Would I not be suitable to be..with him?_

The silence was deafening and Jin snapped back to reality as Hwoarang drew in a thick, smoky breath. "Your right, Hwoarang." The young Kazama said softly, raising up from his haunches, clutching fresh clothing with an iron grip. "I really do thank you for all the help. No one has ever been so good to me before."

"Lets see if your still saying that at the rematch...when your pinned under me, pleading for mercy." Hwoarang said as he exhaled the blue tinged smoke, dripping with hidden innuendo, his words oozing pure charm and a sensuality that made Jin hold his fresh clothing tighter to his body...his slacks becoming uncomfortably snug.

"I..I should shower." Jin said quickly, walking toward the bathroom with a rigid spine, shielding his sudden arousal from the Blood Talons sight, afraid to be discovered and rejected...as he had been last night... _My mind wasn't right then. Making an advance on him was wrong...on so many levels. _Jin tried to reason with himself, futilely._ But I am in the right frame of mind now...and I still...want him._


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2 The Quality of Metal

Jin lathered the soap along his body, washing away the filth of the past two days in a steamy haze. The hot water felt incredible, teasing and tingling the skin as his strong fingers worked the condition into his obsidian mane.

Slowly, Jin tipped his head forward, his nose braced against the tiled shower wall as water trickled down either side of his cheeks and back. There was so little clarity in his life these days and the heat of every moment he spent with Hwoarang only complicated matters. He could not stay there much longer, even if he desired it...not when the Blood Talon was beginning to fill his thoughts like an obsession.

Jins hand slid down his own achingly hard length before he forcefully withdrew his own touch...pressing his palms flat to the whet tile walls. Touching himself, he was raised to believe, was an impurity. A weakness of the soul. A disgrace. Jin had averted it all of these years, never truly feeling his sexuality awakened, though he knew it would, at the right time. But now, with his length throbbing, his thighs feeling tight and strained. He wanted so desperately to find pleasure...to find that release he had heard so much talk of...that balance with body and soul he swore would come to him...if only he gave into that weakness.

A knock came to the bathroom door, followed by the slow steady creak of its opening. Jin looked up, forehead pressed against the tile..half wishing Hwoarang would tear open the curtain...and end his torment...make the choice for him...to give into weakness...or remain pure and focused.

Hwoarang let his head drip against the bathroom door, his fingers lingering on the knob, eager to push the barrier away…to claim the heat and intensity he felt in Jins eyes…to quench the ache that flamed between them. The Blood Talon was losing control, and all of it so suddenly. It had been a day since Jin arrived at his door, seeking comfort and security his former rival could give him and in that day the heat of desire grew from a dim flame to a raging inferno within the Blood Talon.

Hwoarang turned the knob, the bathroom door coming open a crack where the steam and intermingling scent of Jin filled the Korean. He was not sure what he was doing now and what thoughts had possessed him to the point of stalking outside of the bathroom, wanting to burst open the door to feast upon Jin. But the thought was obsessive, an ache that seemed to thump loud in his veins, thickening his resolve.

"No." The Blood Talon whispered, forcing himself to slide back from the door handle and step away from the bathroom.

Hwoarang shook his head to the side, sending coppery wet tendrils against his flushed cheeks. Breathing ragged and feral, the Blood Talon turned, leaning on the couch for support, his strong lithe arms tense and straight as his fingertips gripped the material like claws. He knew he could not pursue this, even if every moment between the former rivals had been leading to this. From the time Hwoarang had seen Jin, fought him to a draw…the Blood Talon had been secretly infatuated. And that, in itself, infuriated him to a new level. Never had Hwoarang been so captivated by any, male or female, and none had ever been so completely untouchable before. Equally, no other had ever been so innocent…though in terms of pure sexuality…the Blood Talon had deflowered many of both genders, his roguish persuasion an irresistible force of pure sensuality.

Realizing Hwoarang could never possess Jin was as dangerous as his desire to do just that. The Blood Talon was not immune to his own competitive nature but never had he been the target of it, never had he been forced to fight against it. Jin was that test Hwoarang had been waiting for, the challenge that both torments and vindicates…

"Where you knocking for me, Hwoarang? Did you need something?" Jin asked, standing just outside of the bathroom. His eyes held his former rivals form for a long moment before he spoke, afraid to break the concentration the Blood Talon seemed intent to keep.

Hwoarang took a deep breath, cracking his neck to the side as he rolled up from leaning on the back of the couch. His fingers slid down his black leather riding chaps, the material cool and smooth, sharply contrasting the deep blue denim beneath.

"I really had to piss. But, the feeling has passed now." He said slowly, knowing Jin would see through the complete line of bullshit. The Blood Talon turned, looking at Jin as a slow smile crept over his velvet lips. Jin was standing with perfect poise in his black leather riding pants and form fitting white shirt. The jacket to complete the riding gear was laying across Jins duffle, black with red and yellow.

Jins obsidian mane was drenched and clinging to his features, something Hwoarang was not used to seeing. The Young Kazama kept the style severe and upswept in the back, never giving any indication of how long and thick his mane truly was. Now, it seemed to kiss the line of his shirt, not terribly shorter than Hwoarangs own dyed coppery locks. It simply amazed the Blood Talon how sensual Jin could look, dressed in any fashion, at any time of day. There was such beauty in the Japanese youth and it went far beyond privilege and wealth, even if Jin had never known a day of living hand to mouth on the streets.

That thought made Hwoarang instantly feel protective of Jin, even as he stood stone still in the long moment of silence. Jin had never been exposed to true freedom, had never wanted for anything like food and shelter…had never known the other side of the tracks. But Hwoarang knew. He had been living that way all of his life…had been hustling and running activities with his gang…all of his life.

"Oh." Jin said simply, softly. His eyes beneath the tendrils of obsidian seemed almost crestfallen as though he had been hopeful that Hwoarang had a much better explanation…and that this could well be the moment it would be said. But it was not..and Jin wondered if it would ever be. "Well, I think I am going to ride out and try to find a dojo. I need to get some time in before the match tomorrow." Jin cleared his throat softly, tossing the towel back into the bathroom behind him. "I would use the one downstairs but I am sure Grandfather will have his guards there, just in case. By now, its obvious to him where I can be found. We were not exactly discreet..at the match or the estate today."

"You shouldn't go there alone, if your that sure the ol' man is going to try to make a snag on you." Hwoarang said, drawing a cigarette to his lips as the lighter sparked. Pocketing the pack, the Blood Talon lifted his mesh shirt, rubbing ha hand along his taut, perfectly muscular torso as if to scratch an itch. "What do you say, we get some food into you. You haven't eaten in a while, right?"

Jin brushed his hand back through his mane, his eyes drawn instantly and completely to the flash of Hwoarangs skin, the exquisite deep shaded musculature of his former rivals torso and the sharp bone curve of his hip. Hwoarangs legs were deadly. Jin knew that first hand, having been on the receiving end of the Blood Talons wrath. Such strong kicks placed with perfect poise, exquisite control and expert timing, Jin swore there had been internal damage. And the sight of Hwoarang, in such a simple act of rubbing his torso…made a heat rush up the young Kazamas spine till he swore he would fall to his knees, shaking and pleading for a touch. _I have to stop this. I cant keep looking at him this way. Its wrong…feeling this way about another male..I am just trying to find comfort, someone I can trust…my body is betraying me, weak and eager…but it is only a trick, it is not real. It can't be._

"Jin?" Hwoarang spoke up, exhaling the last of the smoke before crushing his cigarette. "Have you heard a word I've said, man?" The Blood Talon knew Jin had heard him, knew without looking where his former rivals eyes were fixated. And it made Hwoarangs blood burn beneath his skin to reach out and take what Jin would, no doubt, offer.

"um..I heard you. I was trying to think of the last time I ate something. Its been over a day that's for sure. So, yeah, we could grab something to eat…I need to have some nutrients in my system before my round in the tournament tomorrow." Jin said, tearing his eyes away from Hwoarang. He drew closer to the beautiful Korean…he had no choice, the Blood Talon was standing almost directly over his duffle. "Excuse me…" Jin said, quietly, dropping down to his haunches to put his dirty clothing in a side zippered section of the duffle. Hwoarang moved to the side only slightly, his backside resting against the couch.

"That's great, we can grab a burger, some quick carbs and then get you some exercise." The Blood Talon said with a low, soft voice…husky and thick as velvet as he looked down at Jin, practically on his knees before him. IT took all of Hwoarangs strength not to reach down into that thick, whet obsidian mane and caress…tug..draw the beautiful Kazamas face between Hwoarang firm thighs. _I am going to fucking break something…this is too god damn much already…_

Jin looked up, his breath catching against his lips as he slowly rose, his body close enough to Hwoarangs to feel the heat of the Koreans' skin. It was torture, aching, a heavy sense of pressure thickening in the pit of his stomach. "I..I don't eat meat." Jin said as if losing his voice to the intensity of Hwoarangs nearness.

"Don't eat meat? What the hell kind of life do you live, Kazama?" Hwoarang said with an arrogant smirk, his hand snaking its way up along Jins shoulder, giving the lateral neck muscle a thick, squeeze, not unlike two friends priming each other before a bitch match..to which Jin let out an audible gasp. The heat of Hwoarangs fingers pressed into the muscle, skin to skin contact prevented by the white shirt…but the sensation stirring Jins eyes till the orbs crackled…flaring with red sparks of electricity…

The Blood Talon swore he saw something stir, move…something red and flickering in the depth of Jins eyes…but there was nothing there…it had to be nothing more than a strand of copper tendril coming across Hwoarangs amber eyes, giving off an illusion, or so the Blood Talon tried to rationalize. He released the false friendly squeeze, the heat and flush in Jins face almost too much to bear. "Come on, I saw this little place downtown on the pier, we can try there and get some food."

Jin shivered as Hwoarang released his grip, drawing in a steady breath. The Blood Talon moved away, grabbing his jacket as he threaded his fingers through his drying hair. Slipping his goggles into the line of his fiery mane, the Blood Talon flipped his keys along his fingers, awaiting Jin.

Jin slid his own jacket on, covering the heated curves of his body that Hwoarang had been watching…the narrow waist and firm hips…the perfect V shaped male figure…

The young Kazama leaned down suddenly into the duffle, grasping the bottle of gel he had brought with him…squirting the contents into his palms and with knowing motion, ran his hands through either side of his hair, upsweeping his mane…the follicles freezing instantly with swift memory of the style he always wore. Using the base of his fingers, Jin drew down several cowlicks of hair, letting them dangle against his eyes.

Hwoarang had never seen such primping and could not stop himself from laughing. "I think it looks better down. What do the chics say?" He teased as Jin slid on his riding gloves, tossing up his keys into his palm.

"The girls don't get to see me with my hair down, I always kept it up in school." Jin smiled feeling a twinge of heat and pride mingle as Hwoarang awaited him, bantering and teasing him… "But, I will remember your preference." Jin smiled.

Hwoarang shook his head. "I'm rubbing off on you, man. You have the potential to be a pretty good smart ass, someday…but don't let that go to your head."

Jins smile increased, eagerly, arching a thick sculpted brow. "You..rubbing off on me doesn't sound like a such a bad thing."

Hwoarang pursed his lips, a wicked gleam in his brilliant amber eyes. "I'll be sure to remember that, Kazama."

Hwoarang sat across from Jin, overlooking the water from the downtown Tokyo pier. They ate in silence, the Blood Talon eagerly popping handfuls of spicy roasted soy nuts into his mouth, enjoying the taste…even if he was really in the mood for a burger and some fries. Knowing that Jin was a vegetarian, Hwoarang was careful not to offend the Japanese beauty…and chose instead to enjoy the rich taste of the soy from the eatery.

Jin ate hungrily, black lacquered chopsticks digging down into the white take our container, filled with fried soba noodles and sesame roasted vegetables. Never had Jin felt so famished. He looked up, wiping off his utensil before settling onto his side on the bench, his gaze falling to Hwoarang as the Blood Talon searched amber eyes over the waters.

"Now its time for me to work off this meal. Know where any dojos are in the downtown area?" Jin asked as he watched Hwoarang draw his long, lithe leg up against his chest, looking as wistful as he was entrancing. The fiery nature of the Korean seemed eased by the tides and the salty aire, the soft currents of wind on the spring dusk-heavy horizon.

"You live in Tokyo and your asking me?" Hwoarang smiled mischievously.

"I don't really know the downtown area. My schooling and all other activities have always been uptown." Jin said softly, feeling suddenly too poor to have been so overly wealthy.

Hwoarang shook his head. "Well it just so happens I know a great place to get a work out. Follow me."

Jin saw the look in Hwoarangs eyes and felt a heat flame up his spine. But, soundlessly, he rose, brushing off his riding leathers and reclaiming his keys…following after the sauntering form of his former rival…with admiration.

Jin drew his bike into the secured parking lot beside Hwoarangs. Tucking the kick stand down, he slowly dismounted, scratching the back of his neck in puzzlement as the Blood Talon drew a cigarette into his velvet lips. "Um, stop me if I am wrong…but this doesn't look like a dojo." The Young Kazama said, with a mix of sarcasm and curiosity.

Hwoarang smiled, exhaling the blue tinged smoke, shaking his wind blown coppery tendrils out…making him seem all the more wild and dangerous. "No, its club Oblivion. Cant seem to put one past you, can I, Kazama?" He teased, taking a step toward Jin. "You have been to a club before, haven't you?"

"Actually, no." Jin said with a sheepish smile. "Look I understand you are into good times and all of that, but I have to hit the dojo…I have to be prepared for this match… Jin said, drawing his keys up around his fingers, reading to slide atop his bike and head out on his mission. _I have to find Toshin. I have to avenge my Mothers soul…I have to set her memory free…I have to honor my father and fight well in his name. This tournament is not about it…its never has been…its about them…both._

There was a current of heat in Jins eyes that raged like a sudden tsunami, as if Jin was conflicted, absent, lost in thought. Hwoarang reached out, his hand claiming Jins shoulder, causing the young Kazama to stop cold, his thoughts fleeing from him. The Blood Talon lifted his pointer finger and before he could think on what he was doing…brushed the edge of Jins chin…before quickly darting the digit away.

"You came to me for help, Kazama. Now, I am going to give you that. We are going to blow off some steam here, get your head clear from all the bullshit. And tomorrow morning I have it worked out…where we can get you into that dojo at the hotel…with no surveillance." Hwoarang said with an eager smile, his body still reeling to have touched Jins skin…such supple flesh…like silk.

"How can you do that? How is it possible to beat Heihachi Mishima at his own game?" Jin asked with a shake of his head, whetting his lips with a quick roll of his tongue as he felt the brush of the Blood Talons finger against his cheek. "Hwoarang, please, do not do this to me…I don't want to be in this club tonight when I could be..preparing." _I don't trust myself…when I am with you…_

"First of all, when it comes to Heihachi Mishima and his guards, easily enough done. Gramps is not the only one who has friends and favors…who has some clout, even if mine is in the underground circuit. So, I called a few of those favors in…" Hwoarang said with a smile, dropping his cigarette to the ground, stomping it underfoot as he released his hand from Jins shoulder. "No one is forcing you to stay here, Kazama. If you want back on that bike, don't let me stop you."

Hwoarang cracked his neck, his head tilting to the side as he turned from Jin, walking away. He was upping the stakes, pushing the buttons…making Jin..make a choice. It was the Blood Talons way…or it was no way at all.

Jin grumbled to himself, kicking at the concrete as he watched Hwoarangs boots make tread toward the club entrance. He wanted to be there, he wanted so desperately to taste that kind of freedom, one night away from the anguish, the fear…the pain he carried deep in his heart. Was this the clarion call?

"Hwoarang, wait." Jin called out. To his surprise, the Blood Talon stopped, casting a glance over his shoulder as Jin felt his legs almost go weak. He could not believe he was doing this… "Just do me this favor? Don't let me make a fool of myself on the dance floor?"

The Blood Talon smiled, his lips pursing with pure arrogance… "I will see what I can do, but I might not have enough favors to cover that!"

Jin slid his keys into his jacket pocket as the Blood Talon nodded to the bouncer, an American. That did not surprise Jin since the club itself was Western (American), with hot dance mixes from the states. The Bouncer seemed to know the Blood Talon, or at least knew of him…and where others waited, Jin and Hwoarang were let directly in.

The door swung open with a tug of Hwoarangs hand and a world of sight and sound were unleashed on Jins virginal senses. The music was blaring hard jungle style beats that made the young Kazamas heart mimic the bass and drum, instantly flushing his skin as his body felt the intensity of the music hit him. Lights flashed and strobed over a throng of bodies grinding, the thickness of a young crowd…all dressed in brilliant glittering colors made more flamboyant by the accentuating strobes. To Jin, the sight was like witnessing a primal culture in the heat of religious worship and the music only added to the hot pulse and glittering vibe.

Hwoarang watched Jin, felt how his eyes danced at the sight before him…how his former rivals body glistened under the lights, the leather taking on a steamy appearance as the moisture and humidity of the smoke filled room clung to him. Jin was purely enraptured…till Hwoarang swore he could feel the heat of his former rivals heart pumping to match the rhythm.

The Blood Talon motioned for Jin to follow him, leading him to the bar, where the Japanese youth looked sturdy and out of sorts, yet still fascinated with the debauchery before him. Couples grinding together, men and women, groups of either sex…glorious flesh upon flesh…gender meant nothing…there was only feral heat…promises that came with the sins of the flesh.

Hwoarang leaned against the bar as the tender brought the requested poison. Two shot glasses and a bottle of whiskey. Leaning against Jins ear, his hot breath, his words trying to drown out the music, Hwoarang closed his eyes, trying to keep his focus as Jins scent overcame him. "Drink on the count of three…last one done…has to take another shot."

Jin was not sure what he was agreeing to, his eyes closed, his body stiff as he felt Hwoarangs breath in his ear. His thighs tightened, the knot in his stomach returning. Jin gripped the bar with his hand, eyes closed as he let the Blood Talons words fill him…

Hwoarang poured the shots with a smile, his senses still laddedn with Jins scent. His hand came over Jins as he slid the shot glass into his former rivals fingers. Making the sigh, he let Jin know what was expected…

Fingers pointed upward…1...2.…3...

Jin slammed back the shot and gagged instantly, the liquid burning like fire down into his lungs, into his gut. Eyes tearing, he looked to Hwoarang who had slammed his shot glass down on the bartop…and was already preparing to pour Jin a second one.

Taking the glass still clenched in Jins hand, Hwoarang poured the shot, even as Jin shook his head "no". He could not possibly take another shot of the burning liquid.

"Don't be a deal breaker, Kazama. Slide it back!" The Blood Talon teased, pouring himself another shot that he intended to take when Jin satisfied his end of the deal.

With a deep breath, Jin grasped the shot glass, his eyes narrowing at the thought of what it would do to him a second time around. With a look of hesitancy, Jin brought the amber liquor to his lips and tossed his head back, shoulders hunched forward as he downed the whiskey. "Its not soo bad, the second time around." Jin finally made out, wiping his lips across the back of his hand.

Hwoarang leaned against the bar with a smile before downing his own shot. "Wanna refill?"

Jin turned from Hwoarang suddenly as he felt a hand on his shoulder. Fist prepared in defensive strike, the young Kazama was wide eyed to find Ling Xiouyou standing there behind him. "Ling?"

"Jin, ohh my goodness! I never thought I would find you in a place like this? Blowing off steam, huh? Don't you have a match in the morning? Hey, who are you with?" Ling had a tendency to babble at a mile a minute. Her hand coming over her brow to shield her eyes from the caustic strobes. She saw the Blood Talon and giggled. "That's Hwoarang, isn't it? Oh, wait until Julia sees him…I think she likes him..even if he did beat her in the tournament…wow, that red hair is so fake!"

Jin could not help but smile, shrugging his shoulders as he turned to look back at Hwoarang. The Blood Talon holding a rather unimpressed expression. He felt odd…not unlike he had when he breathed in the smoke of Hwoarangs slim cigarette…

Ling grabbed Jins wrist and his eyes went wide. "Come on, I want to dance? I bet you're the best dancer too!" She pulled Jin toward the dance floor as Hwoarang leaned his back to the bar, both elbows braced on the wood, watching Jin forced to move by Lings hand. This night was not turning out how the Blood Talon wanted…

"No…Ling…I don't dance!" Jin shouted over the music, leaning in to Lings ear. She scented of fresh blooming wildflowers, flooding the young Kazamas senses as his eyes flicked upward to catch Hwoarangs.

"Its so easy, silly!" Ling yelled back, "Its like doing the arts…but to music…try this!" She giggled, placing Jins arm to rest at her shoulder, her free hand going to his hip to keep it grounded.

Jin flushed instantly at the intimate touch, licking his lips as his senses spun..eyes caught by the strobes licking over the dance floor. Having no way out, Jin let Ling guide his hip…guide his body with her own as the model. She was beautiful, there was no doubt of that, but his mind could not stop from searching…his eyes clouded as he sought Hwoarangs form braced at the bar, chatting with an American girl, Julia. At first the conversation seemed animated, as though Julia might have been upset at her defeat…but it was quickly turned around beneath the Blood Talons undeniable charm…

The young Kazama had difficulty finding the beat, too intent on watching Julia and Hwoarang. He swore he could hear the Blood Talons charming laughter flitting over the music as the beat changed to a slow driving, eager rhythm. His body fell into the heat of it as Ling drew closer…and for a moment, he closed his eyes, his breath sharpening. Never had he had such intimate contact..and it felt..good…

Jin slowly ground his hips to the beat, forcing himself to open his eyes once more…focused on Hwoarang…to find the Blood Talon in a locked embrace, kissing Julia with passionate force…only to open his eyes…and return Jins intense stare.

Something inside of Jin felt…angry at seeing the display…and forced his attentions back to Ling…biting his lower lip as he felt her writhe against him, her face flushed from the smoky humid room…and the heat of the lights on the dance floor.

Hwoarangs fingers slid up into Julias hair, watching Jin from his place at the bar. He felt his gut tighten as he watched Jin find the easy rhythm to music, looking like an expert dancer…even if his former rival professed to have never done such before. Ling being there was getting in Hwoarangs way..even if Julia provided an eager and drunken distraction.

The song was not nearly over when Jin broke away from Ling, despite the protests she squeaked above the pumping music. He walked back to the bar, pushing against Hwoarangs shoulder as he leaned in to retrieve the shot that had been poured and abandoned., downing the liquid quickly. Grasping the bottle, Jin poured himself another and laid that libation to waste as well.

Ling came off of the dance floor, following her former crush. She had wanted Jin from their days in school, but he was too enigmatic, too shy and quiet to do more than give her an acknowledging glance. Something was different inside of him now…and at such a perfect moment he had returned to the bar, leaving Lings appetite whet for more. Tapping him on the shoulder once more, she demanded answers. "Why did you leave!"

Jin turned to see Hwoarang and Julia locked in an intense display of public affection that made the young Kazama shiver to behold. The Blood Talons lips looked like plush velvet, the hot roll of his pink tongue slithering into Julias welcoming mouth. "I don't feel like dancing. I feel like drinking." Jin wanted to rip Julia away from Hwoarangs mouth…rip her away…and send her flying into the crowd…

Lings hands went to her hips, but not before slapping Julias arm, breaking the two apart. Julia broke from Hwoarangs mouth, her head swimming, unpretentious about the advances she pressed that the Blood Talon accepted. It had been worth it..and would continue to be worth it…if the night went the way she planned. "What?" She said, looking to Ling as she licked over her lips, savoring the Blood Talons taste.

"I need some girl time!" Ling said with a humph.

"I am alittle busy..letting Hwoarang make up for my defeat…" Julia said before catching that intensity in Lings eyes, one that spoke of duty before men.

Ling pursed her lips, her eyes widening and blinking with dangerous intent. "Your going to be so mad at yourself tomorrow when you realize your fraternizing with the enemy. You liked him before he beat you…and now the alcohol has gone to your brain! Girl time, Now!"

"Alright." Julia said with a confused sigh.

Looking to Hwoarang she smiled, "Don't disappear. You have a lot of making up to do to me.." With an unglamorous tug, Ling dragged her away like a spoiled brat before Julia could finish her sentiment.

Hwoarang laughed, shaking his head as he took the bottle back from Jin, meeting his former rivals eyes…the jealousy tangible…and sudden. "Slow down, your system is going to rebel."

"No, it wont. Don't tell me what to do either." Jin said, not really sure where his sudden anger was coming from in his hazy state. _Why wouldn't you accept my advances? Why wouldn't you kiss me like that? I saw you and your friend from the club…I know you like doing more than that…_ "Ease up, Kazama. I am your friend now, remember? Save that anger for the rematch." Hwoarang answered with an arrogant smile, holding Jins eyes as he poured himself a shot with an expert two second tip of the bottle.

"Maybe I don't need a friend right now." Jin retorted in a loud, spoiled voice, downing the shot left available to him.

"Yeah, and what is it that you need, Jin? Hmm?" Hwoarang said after downing a shot, slamming the glass down on the bartop once more.

"You already know, don't you? You already have it all figured out, like a game in your head? Some competition that doesn't even matter to you." Jin hissed, stepping away from the bar, finding his balance off center as his eyes looked for the sign for the restroom..or any place to gather his head.

Pushing through the crowd, he gave Hwoarang no time to answer him as he made his way down the corridor, littered with club goers wrapped in provocative and intimate embraces. He faltered, kicking through a locked door at the end of a long corridor, not caring at the moment where he was or why the door had been cut off from the club.

Sitting himself down on the couch, Jin ran his fingers through his hair, trying to calm the anger and jealousy that reared in his spirit. Looking around in the dim lighting, Jin realized he had infact come into the employee room, the small table and chairs, two couches and mini refrigerator were a dead give away. But his thoughts were too hazy to care. He had to get away, he had to cool down.

Hwoarang came through the door, kicking it shut behind him. His eyes fell on Jin, sitting with his elbows to his knees, holding his head up. "Are you done with your tantrum now?" He said sarcastically as Jin met his gaze.

"I don't need anymore of your shit right now, Hwoarang." Jin said, coming to a stand, his posture dangerous and offensive.

"Did I hear myself right or did you just cuss, Kazama." Hwoarang chided, licking his lips slowly. "Seems I am rubbing off on you afterall."

"Don't flatter yourself." Jin said with a hiss, looking his former rival up and down with a lewd flick of his gaze. He could not help it…he could not control himself when he was too near to Hwoarang.

"So, your in stance, you want that rematch right here? No, I don't think that is what you want, Jin." Hwoarang tossed his head back, shaking out his coppery tendrils. "I know…what aches and burns inside of you…"

Jin faltered in his stance, too unsteady to return it to proper form. "You don't know anything…"

"Don't I, Jin?" Hwoarang said with a slow, low sensual lilt to his voice. Drawing closer as Jin fumbled in his stance, the Blood Talons fingers slid out just beneath Jins chin.

"Don't touch me. I swear, Hwoarang, I will take you down, here and now…" Jin hissed, missing the slap block to shoo the Blood Talons touch. His body would not respond to the command, Jin was drowning in that touch., his head turned to the side.

Hwoarang slid Jins face forward forcing the Japanese youth to look at him. His fingers traced the curve of Jins jaw line, feeling his former rival shiver, inhaling rapid breath at the sensitive touch. How Jin could have kept his innocence intact, Hwoarang would never know. Such beauty was rare…alluring…

Jin met the Korean youths haunting amber eyes, his hand coming up over Hwoarangs. "Don't do this…" He said in soft desperation, a whisper that barely struck out from the confines of his lips.

"I have to…because you need this…as much as I do." Hwoarang said in a thick, husky breath…leaning in against Jin till he felt his body give…and slowly brace his back to the door. The Blood Talon captured Jin against the door, drawing in a rapid breath himself as he pressed his hips to square against his former rivals…and lowered his mouth to meet Jins.

Jin moaned, low and soft as he felt Hwoarangs lips slide against his…velvet meeting silk…the sensation causing Jin to shiver, to quake with the heat and intensity. Hwoarangs plush tongue slid between his lips, parting them with ease as Jin relaxed his jaw, feeling the first brush of the hot appendage against his own…barely able to breath as the sensations choked him.

Hwoarangs fingers slid to Jins hip, holding the Japanese beauty steady as his mouth worked in slow rhythm, rolling and dancing his velvet tongue along Jins…finding the most exquisite fire building beneath the skin. There was nothing now, no sound, no movement…there was only Jin..pinned against the door by will and desire…there was only Jin mimicking the motions of the Blood Talons tongue, entwining with the wanton, experienced appendage. Hwoarang could have drown…could have been torn to shreds…and there was still nothing..if not Jins mouth.

Jin shivered, his hand bracing at Hwoarangs lithe, narrow waist, the pressure almost painful as his length stirred, quivered against the Blood Talons pelvis. He was eager to taste more, feel more…mimicking every motion of Hwoarangs tongue as he moaned into the Blood Talons lips. It was more than he could take and yet he wanted every sensation. Braced against the door for support, Jin felt Hwoarang pressing against his hips with his body weight, giving the young Kazama a tension that caused his already throbbing heat to shift against the leather of his riding pants.

Hwoarang swallowed the heated moans and mewls that left Jins mouth, keeping the Japanese beauty against the door for support…feeling the hard length shift against his pelvis…twitching with the pressure of the Blood Talons body..and the heat of his mouth. This was more than Hwoarang ever imagined it could be…and the strength of his kiss shifted between worship and feral lust…he was captured by Jins mouth…captured with no chance for salvation.

Jin nipped at Hwoarangs lower lip, panting thickly as his fingers tightened on the Blood Talons waist, feeling how his beautiful Korean slowly added force and pressure against his muscular body…how his length quivered and danced with each of Hwoarangs motions.

Hwoarang claimed Jins mouth fiercely, teeth nearly gnashing as tongues battled and entwined at a rapid pace…the Blood Talons head turning to taste more of Jin…and Jins mimicked the same motion… Hwoarang swallowed a sharp cry from the beauty, feeling Jins fingers tighten…

Jin felt heat trail beneath his skin, like fire brought by the rush of blood…his senses were spinning and Hwoarangs kiss became more demanding while losing none of the sensuality. He was a puppet against such an experienced mouth. Jin felt his body twitch, hyper sensitive with a sudden force, his hips pressing back into Hwoarangs till he felt his own thick shaft grind against the leather…

Jins eyes flew open as the heat intensitifed, panting till he swore he could not breath..moaning till he swore he had no breath left…and then, it happened. Jins nails dug into the heat of Hwoarang mesh shirt, eyes wild…lips kiss swollen…an overwhelming pressure threatening to burst from within him. It felt so good…so incredibly good…in a way Jin had never before felt…

"Hwoarang!" Jin cried out, breaking the kiss as his head fell back against the door…his back arching and writhing and a sudden flash of red brilliance seemed to fill the room, flashing between two pressed bodies, leaving behind an ozone scent. At that moment a thick wave of explosion released itself from Jins shaft…sticky and perfect in the confines of his leather pants. Flushed and panting, Jin continued to arch…unable to breath…riding out the wave of pressures blissful release, tinged with fear.

Hwoarang slid his forehead against Jins, panting thickly as he felt Jin arch and shiver, writhing against the door…the scent of orgasmic release thick in the aire, mixed with the unmistakable current of electricity. But the Blood Talon could also taste the fear, but expected it, knowing Jin had never had a sexual partner..or experience. "Shhh…Shhh…breath…Jin…its alright…its natural…"

After a long moment, Jin slowly returned to orbit, blinking his eyes rapidly as Hwoarang continued to lean close, the heat of the beautiful Koreans breath sliding along his face. Jin arched, involuntarily, his breathing slowly coming back to him at a normal pace. "Are you alright, Jin?"

Jin closed his eyes, shaking his head of the sudden realizations that washed over him. The ebb of release was sticky against his skin and the leather…and all brought about…from Hwoarangs perfect kiss…

Hwoarang slid back, licking his lips of Jins taste. How badly the Blood Talon desired to rip those leathers from Jin and lap at the hot seed staining his former rivals flesh…but no, this was enough for Jin..for the moment…

Jin nodded softly, the flush of shame coming over his features as Hwoarang slid back. He had given into the desire, the sensation. And now, the Fatal Lightning had betrayed him and cleansed his system, Jin felt alert and aware of his shame and weakness, unable to meet Hwoarangs eyes.

"Jin, look at me." Hwoarang said strongly, tilting his fingers under the Japanese youths' chin, only to feel him push away. "Jin, its alright…everything is alright…it was just a kiss…"

Jin shrugged away from Hwoarang. "I..I need to get some air." He said in a broken whisper, grasping for the door as he felt the Blood Talons hand upon his shoulder. Jin looked up, into the Koreans amber eyes. "Don't."

Hwoarang slid his touch back, crestfallen to see the light of rejection in Jins eyes…and saying nothing else, let Jin walk out of the door…and into the hallway.

"Jin!" Ling called as the young Kazama brushed through the crowd for the exit, looking back to see Hwoarang chasing down the hallway near the back of the club as if he was trying to reach Jin.

Jin did not turn, fleeing from the club to be greeted by the cool breeze of a beautiful spring night, drawing his keys into his hand, hastily.

All Hwoarang could do, was watch as Jin peeled out on his bike…and onto the Downtown Tokyo streets.

Jins first stop was a local fueling station. Parking his bike, the Japanese youth fled to the side door where the bathrooms were built in and swiftly locked the door behind him. Sliding his pants down to his thighs, Jin was almost panicked to see dried remnants of his release staining his flesh and his riding leathers. It was proof of what had occurred, proof that there was no turning back now.

Soaping up a coarse, brown paper towel from the wall, Jin began cleansing himself with exasperated breaths, trying to fight the welling panic inside of him, the anxiety that threatened to bring tears to his eyes. _What have I done? How could I have wanted this…I am filthy, stained and disgusting….cleaning myself off like a whore coming off of the streets…this went too far…it went too far._

Once his skin was scrubbed clean, Jin soaped up the other coarse paper towel in his hand and began washing off his leathers, long obsidian tendrils slithering before his eyes. _You wanted this Jin. You wanted this because it felt so right…because it felt so good. Look at yourself, acting like a scared child…people, normal people have sex everyday…and here you are on the verge of tears from a meager kiss. Don't you recall how you have watched him? How you have thickened at the mere thought of him? You wanted this to happen…and what disgusts you most…is that you want it to happen again…_

The voice inside of Jins head was his own, but it was alien…different and yet soothing, as if singing a lullaby to a child. It wasn't the first time he had heard it, felt its cool whisper in his seething mind..but it was the first time it sounded so provocative, so comforting.

The Japanese youth drew his pants back up, tossing the wasted toweling in the trash. He washed his hands thoroughly, splashing cold water onto his face to wake him up, to make the thoughts quiet, for just a moment….


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3: Stoking the Flames

Hwoarang heard the faint knock at the door and paused in his pacing. He had sworn he had heard the faint sound a hundred times over since he returned to the suite, and each time he had gone to check obsessively, it had been someone walking down the hall…or a draft from the open window. He waited now, holding his breath to see if the sound came again.

And this time it did.

The Blood Talons heart froze. It was Jin. Hwoarang knew it was Jin.

Forcing himself out of temporary paralysis, the Blood Talons fingers braced around the door knob, ready to face the Japanese youth…ready to atone for his behavior, for pressing on Jin what he believed his former rival had needed, what Hwoarang swore was there between them. It wasn't the first time he had been wrong, but it was the first time it gnawed at him so deeply.

Cracking his neck to the side, Hwoarang forced himself into the comfort of his cool facade, pursing his dry lips slowly as he let the door slide open.

Jin looked up, his gaze haunted, tormented but far warmer than the icy glare that met him from the Korean beautys eyes. "Hwoarang…"

"Kazama." The blood talon answered in arrogant, artic fashion. He left the door open and walked back into the confines of the suite, one hand on his hip, the other reaching for his soft pack of menthols.

Jin took a deep breath and entered, closing the door behind him, standing still as a statue, rigid as the beginning of a kata. "Hwoarang, I…I am sorry I ran off like that…you didn't deserve that."

"Yeah, no shit, Kazama." The Korean thug responded, tossing the lighter onto the table with a loud thud, its usefulness outlived now that his cigarette was sparked to life. "So, what's the plan? You packing your shit up and moving into Lings room? You two were looking pretty chummy on that dance floor? Need to purge yourself of this queer shit?"

The Blood Talons tone was cutting, caustic and heavy laden with guttural Korean, made thicker in the heat of anger. Jin shook his head, not really knowing what to say, or where to begin it all. But he needed to get it out, now, in the open before the Korean was no longer a friend and once more a rival. "Its not like that, Hwoarang." He felt stupid saying it, he knew that wasn't the Blood Talons given name, just his alias, his street corner catch phrase.

"No, Kazama? Then what's it like, huh?" Hwoarang hissed as he exhaled a thick blue tinge of smoke from his lips. Capturing the cylinder with his teeth, the Blood Talon rolled up the sleeves of his mesh shirt. "And while you are making with the speech, mind telling me how the hell I have smoke marks on my arms? Mind telling me how you pulled that little stunt?"

Jins eyes were wide as he looked up, meeting the icy glare of the Korean youth…and the smoke trails that inched up the Blood Talons forearms. At least, with this part of the topic, Jin could speak, could be heard without anger and fear at Hwoarangs rejection of him.

"Fatal Lightning. That's what oujisan..grandfather..calls it. It's the mark of the Mishima Bloodline…the manifestation of the Chi that forks around the skin. That was how he was convinced I was my fathers son, despite the resemblance." Jin said in a voice so soft, it was like velvet on the skin. "Its something I have always had in varying degrees…something that doesn't manifest itself unless…well unless my body is under strain or my emotions run high. It doesn't usually happen to me unless I am in the dojo…or in a difficult match."

Hwoarang inhaled sharply, returned to stalking about the living area of the suite with leonine, predatory grace. He listened to Jin, tried to sniff him out by the look in his eyes, the way he held his words. If the Blood Talon was good at one thing, it was reading people, even if his impetuous nature showed itself before this gifted ability. "You just keep getting more fucking interesting, don't you, Kazama?" He hissed in verbal attack, sarcasm so deep it hit its mark on Jin and made him flinch.

The Japanese youth could not take this anymore, he did not want it to go this way. Moving forward, his hands resting limp at his hips in a show of surrender as he walked…a show that he was coming before the Blood Talon humble, apologetic. "Hwoarang…."

The Blood Talon ceased his pacing, his left leg falling back to brace a stance. His normal defense mechanism that triggered when his temper burned hot. "What?" He barked in annoyance.

"I liked it." Jin said simply, stopping a few feet from the Blood Talon, who watched him like prey.

"What?" The Blood Talon answered sharply, not sure if he heard the young Kazama the right way.

"I didn't know what to do when it all…hit me. I thought I shouldn't have enjoyed it..that it was wrong…but…I liked it. I liked kissing you. I liked feeling your mouth and tasting it…I liked the way it made me feel…and that cant be wrong…" Jin said with such earnest. Lies could never become him, he had no poker face, no alternate idiom to hold to but truth and honor.

Hwoarang was caught of guard, his stance wavering ever so slightly as his amber eyes melted down from a glacier to an ice cube. "If you liked it so much, why did you tear ass out of the club?" _Interesting choice of words there, Blood Talon. Really._

Jin shook his head softly, the cowlick tendrils falling before his eyes shivering. "This is going to sound like every other thing I have told you, Hwoarang, but…well…" Jin was forcing himself to be blunt now, one hand coming up to scratch the inky hair at the back of his neck. "..well that was the first time I have felt…you know…climax?"

Hwoarang had not been shocked at how sheltered Jin was, after his former rival explained how his life had been. But this damn near floored the Blood Talon who had sworn he had heard it all now. The confusion and disbelief showed in his eyes, his softened tone, before his body would relax. "You mean to tell me, Kazama, that you have never…shot it off? I mean, I know you kinda let the slip go that you hadn't gotten any action before…but, I mean, not even with your own hand?"

Jin shook his head no with slight, subtle movements. His face burned with shame, flushed to admit this to anyone, including himself. "I know how it works, I mean the biology of it all. But I was brought up in a traditional house, before my mother passed. We never really spoke of sex but the tenets of my mothers way was almost feudal, almost samurai…and that translates to…never letting vital life spill for no good reason." Jin moistened his dry lips, his hips easing a bit from the rigid form now that Hwoarang was showing some relaxation in that area.

"I…remember cleaning myself once…and well, to paraphrase you…it shot off…but I felt so bad about that, that I don't even remember how it felt…" Jin was rambling now, trying to get some kind of reaction from Hwoarang. "This is all really new to me…from the way my body feels to the way my emotions are working. I always thought I was supposed to find a girlfriend, like all the other guys I see at school…I thought that was how it worked. But, well, I have always been shy around people…"

The Blood Talon raised a brow as Jin just kept rambling, leaning into the ash tray to flick off the dangerously long end of his cigarette before crushing it. He was listening. His defenses were dropping. Jin had that affect on him.

"But my body is awake now…and as much as I wanted to deny it to myself when I left the club…my body has been starved…and its hungry for you." Jin said, looking up to meet Hwoarangs eyes, the flush of heat blushing over his face. His words were bold, but they had to be. They had to clean up the mess he created. "And I would…well, that is if you would…let me kiss you, again?"

The Blood Talon ran his fingers through his coppery mane, tearing his eyes away from Jin for a moment, just to collect his thoughts.

"I promise I wont run away this time." Jin said with the hint of a smile, trying to laugh off his behavior and the awkward silence that filled the room.

Hwoarang looked up, a brief glint of a smile flashing over his features. He was disarmed. The mighty thug, the roguish manipulator was rendered nearly helpless for Jin Kazama. "Alright." This went against his better judgment. It went against everything in the Koreans fiery spirit. But as starved as Jin was, the Blood Talon was equally famished.

Jin slowly closed the few feet of distance remaining between them, coming to a stand before the slightly more lithe but incredibly muscular Korean. With shivering fingers he dared to make the first contact. He had to, he had been the one to run away when Hwoarang had done it.

The moment his cool fingertips met the heat of the Blood Talons angular jaw line, Jin felt his breathing hitch, felt the flutter in his stomach…his veins afire as if he no longer pumped blood beneath his skin, but gasoline. Dark chocolate eyes flickered up nervously before lowering, the Japanese youth quivering as he brushed his lips along Hwoarangs lower one, the clash of silk and velvet…

The Blood Talon closed his eyes slowly, feeling that first brush and the cool sensation of Jins fingertips, shaking and nervous as they braced to his jaw line. The moment seemed to last an eternity as he felt Jin open those perfect lips, the tentative slick muscle making shy first contact with Hwoarangs own tongue. The first delicious taste of the Japanese beauty, given with only the fear of rejection…not the fear of its intentions.

Hwoarang tilted is head to the side, twining his tongue along Jins own before slowly withdrawing and rolling thick laps within his former rivals exquisite mouth, drinking in the rich font, the perfect taste of his Japanese beauty. One hand came up, snaking along Jins shoulder as fingers twined strands of ebony. The Blood Talon drank in Jins soft moan and returned it with is own as the Japanese beauty slowly drew more confident in the sensation.

Jin felt the tension in his tightly shut eyes leave him, letting himself drink in the sensation, the taste of Hwoarangs mouth…the sweetest elixir he had have taken a draught from. And it felt right…it felt…like home.

"We don't have to go any further." Hwoarang said softly as Jin gasped for breath, the Japanese youths hands resting on the Blood Talons firm, leather clad thighs as Hwoarang straddled him on the couch. The two had been locked in intimate adoration for several minutes before moving to the cushiony softness. It had been an hour since then and with slow, experienced motions, Hwoarang had withdrawn Jins jacket and white form fitting shirt as well as his own. Chest to chest, skin to skin, the kissing became more intense as Hwoarang explored Jins upper body, tracing his fingers over each curve of muscle, learning the sensitivity of the Japanese youths taut buds…and finding how Jin needed little encouragement to do the same.

Jins hands had ceased the trail up along the Blood Talons spine and rested comfortably on Hwoarangs thighs…his lips kiss tender and swollen, his body glistening in a thin sheen of sweat from such intensity, such aching heat. The Korean youth had been careful to exert little to no pressure on the thick heat bound in Jins riding leathers, not wanting to upset the flow of their intimacy by bringing Jin off a second time in the same night. He wanted the Japanese beauty to feel the build up, to know release was at hand…and it would not be like this. Not if Hwoarang was to be his first….

Jin tried to regain his breath as he smiled, still flushed, his hair mussed and down from its normally severe style. Never had he felt something as soft as Hwoarangs hands on his skin, the Korean beautys flesh against his own roaming fingers…or the downy copper mane that fascinated the young Kazama so intensely. "I don't want to stop…but…"

Hwoarang danced his tongue along Jins lower lip with sublime, agonizing slowness. "Don't say another word…we will stop here."

Jins eyes lowered as he felt the slick appendage lavish over the silk of his mouth, making him increasingly hunger for Hwoarangs kiss, again. He could not seem to get enough of the rich, exotic taste…it overwhelmed all other senses…till Jin swore the world had come to a screeching halt as Hwoarang explored the heated orifice.

"Alright.." Jin managed weakly, opening his eyes as he felt the Blood Talon slowly draw up on those deadly legs, grasping his pack of cigarettes and sparking a cylinder to life.

The Japanese youth swore he felt his head spinning, his senses aflame, called up by the flick of Hwoarangs fingers…as though he were the lighter laying dormant until the Korean set him free.

The Blood Talon slid down into the chair opposite of the couch, one leg thrown over the arm of the ottoman as he tried to recapture his own breath. His body too was glistening with a thin sheen of sweat, heart racing with virulent pressure. Jin was going to prove to be the unmaking of him.

Jin sat up, shivering slightly, though his body was far from cold. He could still taste Hwoarang on his lips and the sensation was feverish, tempting in all the ways he never believed he would experience. Exhaling sharply, Jin fought to catch his breath, smiling when he realized the Blood Talon was watching him. "So, does this make us…lovers? I am not sure what to call it?" the Japanese youth said through flushed features, his words more stammering than he wanted them to be.

"You don't have to call it anything, Jin." The Blood Talon licked his nicotine tainted lips slowly, the taste of Jins mouth able to overpower even the residue of the menthol cigarette he smoked. "Or you can call it whatever you like."

The way Hwoarang said that gave Jin a flutter in his stomach. There was an element of danger that was too delicious to avoid when it came to the Blood Talon and Jin was its willing victim. "What would your..you know, gang back in Korea, think about this?" He asked, searching for a topic to break the heated gaze between them. Jins riding leathers were already far too tight and uncomfortable and watching Hwoarang across the way from him was torture. Jin was a fast learner…and he wanted all of the unspoken lessons the Blood Talon promised in his kiss…now.

Hwoarang inhaled from his cigarette, a cocky smile pressed over those perfect lips. "Probably the same as your Grandfather would think." The Blood Talons words were cool, confident. "I don't bring my life to the door when I hustle down a deal. They respect that. I don't exactly scream out the window when some guy is going down on me, telling them to rush up and see what pretty bait I brought home. Its no ones business but mine and well, yours, now."

Jin winced just a bit at the way Hwoarang referred to a lover and at the same time, there was a twinge of jealousy that flared in the pit of his gut. He knew, from his own eyes, that Hwoarang had both male and female partners…and he wondered now, if this was as special to the Blood Talon as it was to him. "Oh, right. Yeah." He said flatly, looking to the table before the couch and wondering if now would be a good time to smoke a cigarette. It seemed to ease the mind. But then again, it also shortened the breath..something Jin could not afford to be shorter of than he already was.

Hwoarang crushed the cylinder, leaning forward, his sculpted brow arching slightly. He could read the worry in Jins mind. It had been his once before, long ago when he was having his own awakenings to the hedonism of a same sex partner. The difference had been, Hwoarang was already well experienced with the female persuasion then and had not taken the cool words as much to heart as Jin was now.

The Blood Talon rose, drawing himself back to the couch and sitting next to Jin, his soft fingers pulling beneath the Japanese beauties chin. Jin made the contact quickly enough but some of that fire had simmered in those chocolate eyes. "Listen to me, that's not how I am feeling about you, alright? This..'thing' we have going on, its real new and special for you. No matter where you go in your life, top or bottom of it all, a part of me is always going to be there with you, a memory. A memory that your skin was never touched, your mouth never kissed before me."

Jin watched the heat in Hwoarangs amber eyes, exhaling softly. "And what is it going to be for you? What kind of memory does it leave for you?" Jin did not like the tone of the conversation. He didn't want Hwoarang to be just a memory, a part of his collective thoughts to look back on with a sigh and a smile.

The Blood Talon smiled that disarming smile. "Its new and special, Kazama, because its you. Alright?" Hwoarang had to give it to himself there. It was the truth. He never spent this much time stalking prey, never this much conversation that could waste time better spent in a host of depraved positions. But the fire didn't die down when he talked like this with Jin, it only made it stronger.

Hwoarangs fingers tripped slowly upwards, brushing his thumb against Jins lower lip. Such plush velvet was fixating to watch, how the perfect bow of his mouth dimpled with the pressure of even a slight touch. Kazama Jins lips…were made for kissing. "Now," The Blood Talon said with a breathy, sensual smile. "How about a good night kiss?"

Jin felt the pressure of Hwoarangs thumb, slight as it was, against his lip and his eyes lowered, shrouded by long sable lashes. His body was taut as a cord and easily ready to snap at the perfect pitch of the Blood Talons voice. "Yes.." He murmured mindlessly, his lips already parting, his body already moving in against Hwoarangs, desperate, he realized, to drink from that font one more time.

True to the Blood Talons promise the night before, the Dojo was empty and unoccupied. The Korean must have had quite an impressive network of favors and contacts to have pulled this off and the thought had not gone unnoticed.

Dressed in his black Gi, brilliant red flames outlined in orange jutting up one leg, Jin meditated before the candle he had brought with him, giving himself some focus. It had been a rough night, trying to find sleep, trying to calm his thrumming heart as he shifted on the couch, knowing Hwoarang was just outside of his reach, in the bedroom of the suite. But the Japanese youth had found some rest, it would have to be enough to sustain him until the match was over.

The Blood Talon leaned against the double doors inside of the Dojo. Jin had not spoken up about it but Hwoarang knew Kazama preferred solitude during the warm up. There would not have to be secrets between them from this point on, even if the rest of their lives prior to last night would remain shrouded in mystery.

Hwoarang adjusted the goggles that held his unruly copper mane from his face, looking up as Jin rose from the meditative position, seemingly trance like with Zen or whatever the fuck Kazama called it. Now, there was only the movement that gave life to the silent dojo, the crisp snap of breath exhaled as the Kata was run through, the crackle of Gi pants and the hiss of warming muscles. Jin was sweating, his muscular upper body glistening with it as he struck a hard set of stances. He had one thing going for him, power with that flexibility. Some of the moves Jin practiced would easily clean the clock of an opponent, if they did not know how to counter. But Hwoarang knew the secrets, he had fought Jin to a draw before.

The Blood Talons lips were aching for a cigarette, but he kept himself respectful and quiet as Jin worked hard through his art. Amber eyes shifted slightly when that familiar scent of ozone started to creep over Hwoarangs sensitive nose. And in that second of recognition, the Blood Talon watched it happen first hand.

Fatal Lightning, Jin had called it. And now, a crimson hue of current filtered along Jins body, giving him a speed and authority Hwoarang had never noticed before. Why didn't Jin show this to him when they fought in the back alleys of Korean, a year ago? How did Hwoarang not see it? It probably had something to do with one eye swollen shut and the other fighting back droplets of sweat before plunging into his ocular cavity. Either way, it was amazing, almost frightening to watch.

The swirl of electric current gathered in Jins hands as he stood stone still. And the moment it was there, no longer forking or licking the Japanese youths sweat covered body, Jin exhaled sharply and executed a powerful punch combination that Hwoarang did not recall seeing before.

And just like that, it was over. The ozone smell lingering but the current had gone. And Jin was no worse for the wear, either. No smoke and char marks up his whet, naked torso. Didn't electricity and water usually equal pain and death?

Kazama reached down and blew out the candle, grabbing one of the towels he had brought from the suite. Brushing the terrycloth over his face and through his hair, Jin let the material hang about his neck, dangling like a captive lover over those large shoulders. He smiled when he realized Hwoarang had been watching him, feeling alittle self conscious, not really used to an audience during a warm up. "We should probably get out of here."

"Yeah, we probably should. But you see, I am guarding the door here…and if you think you want to make it through me, your going to have to pay the price." The Blood Talon replied in a deeply arrogant, yet extremely erotic voice that hit Jins spine like a sledge hammer.

"Is that so?" Jin blushed, swearing the Katas did not warm him half as effectively as Hwoarangs presence did. Making slow, barefoot strides, Kazama Jin drew up toward the Blood Talon, his blush as deep as the flames on his pants.

Hwoarang reached out, pulling Kazama closer to him, the sight of Jin, glistening with sweat like a calling card to get near. The heat that rose between them last night had not even flickered in its flame. It was stronger, brighter with the rise of a new day. Irresistible. "Yeah, that's so.."

Jins arms fell on either side of the wall, trapping Hwoarang between the surface and his body. The move completely alien to him, not sure why he had done it..but it was automatic, completely natural and unpracticed.

"Feeling feisty, Kazama?" Hwoarangs smile echoed wickedness and ran through Jin like a knife. The dangerous Korean reached in, his lips parting with eager desire to taste the fruits he had been denied since last night. There had to be a law about wanting someone this badly.

Jin moaned into the heat of Hwoarangs mouth, feeling the slick eager muscle snake its way around his own, dancing, teasing…adding fuel to a fire that had the Japanese youth already out of breath.

The Blood Talons fingers slid down Jins slick spine, feeling his beauty arch to the unexpected touch, thickening his kiss in response to the fanning flames between them. The moment was hot, pure and perfect…and Jin was fast becoming accomplished at the dance of lips and tongues.

Hwoarang broke away slowly, licking his lips. He had to admit it, he liked that feeling of being trapped between Jin and the wall. Something he was not ever really keen on. More of a giver than a receiver. Connecting amber eyes to deep chocolate…the Blood Talon drew his fingers around from Jins spine to the glistening broad chest before him. Something about the way sweat smelled on Jin reminded him of summertime under fruit trees, humid and thick…but refreshing and energizing. Those delicious fingers worked their way down to the drawstring on Jins black Gi pants.

Kazamas eyes widened, his arms faltering in the previous strength of bracing on the wall. "What…what are you doing?"

The Blood Talon licked his lips slowly. "You'll find out in a just a second, baby. Make sure your holding onto that wall, your going to need it." The voice purred, thick and sensual as Hwoarang slid his tongue down the line of Jins chest, much as he had done the night before, only this time…he was rolling the elastic edge of the Japanese beauties Gi with him.

There was something possessive in the way Hwoarang spoke to him, called him, "baby". It made Jin shiver, made him fill with a sudden ache. His imagination flying. The Korean slowly lapped his way down Jins taut torso, tracing the curve of his abdominal wall till the Blood Talon was settled on his knees, taking Jins GI pants to his thighs with him. A flush of heat and embarrassment filled Jins mind when he realized his length was stiff and at attention…and could sense Hwoarangs breath on such untouched flesh.

Jin was perfect. Down to the thick, eager length throbbing with fresh blood before the Blood Talons face. He swore he had never seen a rod so thick, juicy, pink and utterly tempting. Hwoarang did not make a habit of this act, not one for being on his knees for anyone. But Kazama was different, he was fresh and pure and the Blood Talon wanted every experience Jin had to be a first and only for himself as well.

The Blood Talons fingers caressed the thick vein that ran along the underside of Jins length, getting a feel for such rigid but soft skin, hearing Jin gasp and knowing without having to look up that Jin was undoubtedly blushing at the attention.

"What are you…" The Japanese youth was cut off by the force of his moan, Hwoarangs fingers caressing the under of his length to the instantly tightening, dangling jewels between his legs. The sensation was intense and it made Jin shiver, his eyes closing tightly, head bowing downward toward Hwoarang.

The Blood Talon felt every inch and curve of Jins throbbing length, watching how even the slightest brush brought liquid pearls glittering to the rosy head. He couldn't take anymore of it, let alone what Jin must have been feeling. Parting his mouth, he enveloped Jins crown for a hot, fast suckle…before withdrawing, licking his lips at the salty sweet taste. Something else the Blood Talon was not usually on the ticket for. Flavored condoms did a great trick when the need arose for the Korean to give some oral attentions. But Jin…Jin was something else all together.

The strength in the Japanese youths' arms nearly failed him as he felt the tip of his desire suckled into Hwoarangs mouth…only to be replaced by a slow laving from that slick muscle up and down his shaft. It made his legs go weak, made the fear and embarrassment of what they were doing flee Jins thoughts in a single heartbeat. Hwoarangs mouth was home.

"Oh…God…" Jin cried out, eyes closed tight enough to see shooting stars in the blackness. The Blood Talons mouth swallowed him whole, to the root and his experienced tongue was working circles around such a thickness before moving back to the tip again. Jin felt his spine wrack with seizures, every single fiber of his nerves alive and sparking in succession. His hips bucked, only to be braced by Hwoarangs expecting hand, keeping Jin steady and still as the Japanese beauty used all his upper body strength to hold against the wall.

Jins moans were like a symphony, a high strung and low growling concerto Hwoarang had seen once from the rooftop of his shack back in Korean. He felt Jins hips arch and having known it would come, braced him there…as his mouth moved in thicker successions, finding himself moaning now as he rode Jins length into his thirsty throat. Why could he not get enough of Kazama?

As the Blood Talons mouth claimed him harder, deeper…with powerful thick succor, Jin had to bite his lip to keep from screaming in pure delicious ecstasy. It was too much, too intense…too perfect…too hot. He was drowning in Hwoarangs exquisite mouth and his body was building to a mind shattering pitch.

"Oh…God…Hwoa…rang…its..happening again…" Jin let out a strangled cry, his lip gnashed between his teeth. The scent of Ozone filled the air, the fatal lightning beginning to spark in crimson electricity. It took every last ounce of his will to make the threatening current evaporate from the torso, the center of chi, where it would begin…and instead…begin in spirals from his upper arms, where his Korean beauty was safe.

Hwoarang broke his lips away for a single moment, looking up at Jins face, the Japanese beauty having his head hung low between his shoulders. The heat etched in Jins face, the swirl of danger around his forearms…the need he could taste now in the back of his throat…were working in tandem. He heard Jins plea. He heard it and was ready to answer it.

"I know baby, let it come…let it come." Hwoarang moaned, his fingers grasping around Jins hips as he dove his lips with thick fury around Jins girth…hot succor claiming and reclaiming from root to tip in a fury of successions.

Jin was thrown overboard by Hwoarangs words…the return of that perfect mouth around him, set him spiraling. Quivering as though his body was hypothermic, the sensation built so far up the dam of his reserves that he could not hold it back if he tried. In one thick, guttural cry, the fatal lightning spread out from his hands and dissipated…in that single feral groan…the building heat emptied itself into Hwoarangs waiting, suckling mouth in steamy volcanic ribbons that felt never ending…

Jin gasped for breath as he rode the wave of pleasure, swearing his heart had stopped beating..that his body had died and been reborn…that his eyes would never again reopen, fused as tightly together as they had been. "Oh god…Ahh…God…Hwoa..rang…" Jin rasped as his Korean beauty slowly released succor and drew up his body, bringing the gi pants back with him.

Jins arms were shaking as the Blood Talon settled himself between them, his hands rushing up and down his Japanese lovers supple spine, soothingly, feeling the tremors that overtook Jin and the clammy heat of his skin trying to cool itself down. He was going to pull his lips away at the perfect moment, the Blood Talon did not..ever..swallow down even a droplet of release. He wanted to give this to Jin, he wanted to taste his lover and feel the tremble in his tightly perched lips when the eruption happened. There was nothing to say as Hwoarang soothed Jins convulsing body, feeling how Kazama slowly released his arms from the wall and wrapped them about the Blood Talons waist. It felt right. It felt good. It felt like it should….

Jin felt himself coming down from the volcanic eruption, shivering slowly diminished and his breath was fighting to turn itself to a comfortable pace. He was drowned in Hwoarang, his lips and nose buried in copper hair till he was overcome with the aroma. "Hwoarang…"

"I know, Jin. Let it ride out, enjoy the feeling." The Korean beauty smiled, finding himself savoring his lovers taste in his mouth. Slowly, his fingers worked along Jins spine, easing the incredible tension that knotted there and the Japanese youth moaned softly into every brush of those fingers.

After a long moment, the Blood Talon leaned back against the wall as Jin tried to right himself, tried to stand on legs that were not accustomed to the aftershocks he was still in the throes of. Slowly, their eyes met as Jin kept himself steady.

"Now, you can say we are lovers…and not a drop of you was wasted." Hwoarang smiled, lifting a cigarette from his pack and sparking it to life, the trademark puff of smoke encircling the Blood Talon like a halo.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4: White Hot Flame

Jin knelt within the confines of the Korean temple, his candle lit to no particular God. He had learned this from his Grandfather, the quiet meditation required of the Mishima ancestral art; something he took seriously after the utterance in passing long ago that Heihachi had taught Kazuya Mishima the same ritual. It was Jins way of holding on to a spirit he never knew. It was his way of connecting with his father.

Hwoarang had opted not to join Jin inside of the temple, waiting in the over run gardens, one arm braced over the head of a stone lion as the other drew a cigarette to his lips. They had arrived here separately to try and right the undoubtedly realized truth of Jin Kazamas temporary hideout. It might have been a little too late for that, but it was worth a shot in the Blood Talons mind. He was not used to being so lax in control, in securing those closest to him. But he was here now and ready to do whatever he had to in order to keep Jin safe and with him. _What an odd turn of events. Rivals…friends…lovers. The hunt is over now, you realize. There will be no more of those wonderful one night stands, of those casual faces drifting in and out of the bedroom. Cant do that to Jin. Don't want to do that to Jin. At least not while I am here in Japan. _

Jin left the candle burning as he drew up, taking his arm guards from the alter just behind it, slowly sliding them on. With a soft breath, he asked for strength in his victory, for guidance in his heart…for a direction of his life. There was a split moment when that prayer was sent to a face he had never seen, to Kazuya, rather than the Buddhist Guardians watching over the shrine. Jun, his mother, was always in his heart, his thoughts…but that yearning for a link with his father made the prayer to him, this morning.

Jin could hear the rustling of those gathering to the courtyard, where the fight would be officiated, where the next round of Tournament would be decided. He lingered a moment longer, gathering his Chi about him.

Hwoarang tossed his cigarette to the ground, crushing it beneath a spurred boot. He hated Temples. Even this native Korean structure built on Japanese soil. It reminded him of home, of the squalor and the splendor he both missed and found himself disgusted by. It wasn't an easy life in his homelands. But then again, the Blood Talon knew nothing of an easy life to begin with.

A strong hand steadied itself on Hwoarangs shoulder and the Korean youth turned quickly, only to feel a second hand from another assailant form over the left side. Two men, large, dressed in black suits kept the Blood Talon stable and unable to get off a round of kicks. They were in too close even if the Korean wanted to try. The only failing of the art the Blood Talon had studied to perfection.

Amber eyes narrowed when he realized where the orders were coming from…and why he had been grabbed so effectively. Pursing his lips, the Blood Talon refused to move his stare from the icy glare that met him.

"Hwoarang. Do-Sans little prodigy. Quite an upstart, as usual. I see you have not changed from our first meeting." Heihachi Mishima said in a voice as serrated and deadly as broken glass.

The Blood Talon was seething. "Call off your goons, ol' man."

"Oh, dear boy, that is for your protection, not for mine. You see, I have come to claim something that belongs to me, something of which you have been harboring. I have come to take him home." Heihachi said with what, from the outside, would have been considered Grace. Until you knew this man.

"Over my dead body." Hwoarang hissed, feeling how the hands on his shoulders dug deeper into him. They were on a pressure point, each hand at the right angle. One squeeze and the Blood Talon would feel the agony that came with accessing such tender spots.

"That can be arranged." The Elder Mishima smiled, the exaggerated points of his severely upswept grey mane shivering as he folded his arms before his chest. "You know, Hwoarang. I had a son, adopted from that filthy stink hole you call Korea. Arrogance must run in veins of the country. But arrogance does not save your kind from Squalor does it? Perhaps, one by one, those arteries must be severed in order for your country to survive."

There was little love between the Japanese and the Koreans. Japan had all the wealth, the opulence, the answers. Korea was poor, left desolate from the wars, no economy anymore but the infamous rice paddies, the killing fields as some Americans had coined it. But there was Pride and Strength in the Korean soul, something Heihachi found to be endearing. How they loved to cling to a faded past.

"Fuck you, ol' man." Hwoarang hissed, spitting at Heihachis feet as a smile crept over his lips.

Heihachi only smiled, watching how the sputum flew and spattered on the cracked cement of this ruined temple. "Not exactly the smartest thing to do, spitting on your own soil. But let us get to the point, shall we?"

Hwoarang looked from side to side before returning his attentions to Heihachi. The standard distraction. The moment amber eyes held the grey lifeless orbs of the Elder Mishima, the Blood Talon sprung into action…sweeping the legs of the attendant to the right, sending the suited guard to the floor. But that action cost him as his pressure point was dug, his arm grabbed as it went lifeless with the tortured pressure, brought behind his arm in a chicken wing.

Now, Heihachi had had enough. He grasped Hwoarang by the coppery tendrils, forcing the boys face to meet his own while the felled servant rose, taking hold of Hwoarang once more. "That was not very smart, Hwoarang. Its time to make my intentions completely clear. Jin is returning with me, back to where he belongs. This bit of insolence he has shown me will no longer due, and when I had heard the reports that he had befriended his former rival, that he had been seen with you during his absence, I knew it was to you, I must come and Jin would not be far behind. You have tried to corrupt the masterpiece I forged out of that weak mass of emotion and tenderness in his blood. Kazama blood tainting the Mishima line. Disgusting."

Heihachi tightened his hold on those coppery tendrils, Hwoarang forced to crane his neck at an odd angle as he remained in a strong hold by the two assailants behind him. One had even been smart enough to block off the extension of his legs. Clever. "You will have no further contact with Jin. You will vacate the suite I have provided for you, in the name of the Tournament and find yourself a squalid whole to cramp yourself within until you are needed to fight. Any attempts to use that hot headed way of yours to get to Jin will end with more than just the one Korean Martial Artist disappearing from the face of the planet. Do we understand each other?"

Hwoarang hissed, trying to well up the spit in his mouth to land on that aristocratic face of the Elder Mishima. "You don't scare me, Ol' man."

"When Toshin comes…and he will come…I will make sure you are the first meal he encounters." Heihachi smiled with deadly charm.

_Toshin._ Jin had spoken of Toshin. But Hwoarang knew it only as a monster. The rumor of Baek Do Sans untimely disappearance had been chalked up to that beast. It all made sense now. This tournament was to draw Toshin…the creature that fed on the very essence of Chi. Heihachi was using Jin to hold the tournament, to draw Toshin to him. "You sick son of a bitch!"

Heihachi laughed, releasing Hwoarangs hair, giving his men the order to drop the Korean to the ground. An order they followed with extreme delight. "A word of advice, Hwoarang. When next you believe a small time hustler like yourself is holding all the cards, I would check your resources. Your scam to procure the Dojo in the hotel this morning…my dear boy, you were nothing but bait for me to assure Jin was in fact with you today and would show at the tournament. Do not cross hairs with me again, boy. " Heihachis icy glare kept Hwoarangs eyes.

"Heed my words, Hwoarang. Stay far away from Jin. If you know what is best for you. And for him." The connotation in Heihachis voice left little to Hwoarangs imagination. He would be helpless to aid Jin once he was back in Heihachis clutches. He was helpless to stop this. But he would find a way. He would find a way to do more than cross hairs with Heihachi, but to beat him at his own game.

With a wave of his fingers, Heihachi walked toward the ring where Jack was waiting, his pistons oiled as he executed a few sample hits to delight the small, authorized guest list. The two guards followed the Elder Mishima, their eyes ever vigilant on Hwoarang.

The Blood Talon rose from the ground, dusting off his chaps as he eyed down the two suits who had taken him down. Jin was walking from the temple now, a living breath among the dead stone of the temple. He was Hwoarangs' and nothing Heihachi could say or do would change it. He would not allow it. And seeing Jin, standing there, filled the Blood Talon with all the courage he was going to need to find a way out of this for both of them. _Shit. It ain't going out like that. This isn't over, not by a long shot._

Jin stepped out from the temple, the cushioning of his leg guards stirrups sweeping the concrete as he walked. On the top plateau before the steps, the young Kazama looked about to see the gathered crowd. But his sight was set on a specific target. There, before the grey cloud filled sky, Jin saw the outline of copper, the body of his lover standing away from the others. Hwoarang was brushing off his chaps. Something was not right.

Jins eyes held the scene. It didn't take long to find the source of the problem. Heihachi Mishima had come to the round. The Japanese youth could have hit his head against the stone columns for not having realized it before. He had waltzed, in delirium, into a trap.

Strengthening his resolve, Jin slowly strode down from the steps of the Temple, his head held high, his jaw hardening. Anger was building itself inside of Jin, threatening to rip through him to manifest itself into a completely new entity. Heihachi Mishima would not have the last word. Not anymore.

Jin was still astraddle the remains of the JACK, wiring and oil from the machine clutched and dripping between his fingers. His fatal lightning had taken on a life of its own, his fists, bleeding and torn had pulverized the mechanical wonder. He had been declared the winner a moment before, but Jin could not bring himself to rise, could not bring himself to let go of the opponent he had decimated. He wanted the oil to be blood. He wanted the metal to be bone. He wanted to unleash all of the anger that remained in him on the fallen Robot.

The official touched his shoulder and Jin whirled around, coming to a stand with incredible speed and agility. "Kazama Jin. You have won the match." The official stated again, struck with fear at the seething visage before him. But it was not the official that Jin saw. It was Heihachi standing behind the smaller Japanese man. His arms were folded, bulky burgundy and fur from his jacket crossed together, making him look twice as thick and opposing. But it was the look in the Elder Mishimas eyes that made Jin want to rage like a captured beast. "Come, boy. Its time to return to the Estate." Heihachi said in a low tone, not wishing to bring a bad reputation to himself by showing off his anger in the here and now. He had ordered the on lookers to disperse and only a few stragglers remained now and were being quickly ushered away.

"I am not leaving here with you." Jin said as he straightened his back, refusing to avert his eyes from his grandfather.

"You will do as your told, Jin. You will return to the Compound with me and there will be no discussion of it." Heihachis voice was barely managing to cloak the anger within. It seemed he had failed again, it seemed he had raised another Kazuya.

"I will not!" Jin hissed this time, eyes daring Heihachi to move in and make this physical.

Heihachi cocked an arrogant smile. "As you wish, Jin. Though it is a shame that your actions will not only hurt you…but your friend, Hwoarang. The Blood Talon, they call him? What is it about Korea that makes their sons wish to take on such alias? Blood Talon, Silver Devil…a pirates Galleon." Heihachi looked over his shoulder, though one eye remained focused on Jin from the side. "I have but to bow my head, Jin, and we both know there will be an empty slot in the tournament. Tae Kwon Do is an art of Kicks, hard soft, they deem it. A practitioner of that art, if he can not kick, he can not fight."

Jins eyes widened. He had not expected, not in all his wildest wondering, that Heihachi Mishima would threaten Hwoarang, an innocent to the twisted world he found himself the center of. Lei Wulongs words were coming back to him now. _You don't know Heihachi Mishima, Jin. The only man who ever really did, is dead by his hand. Don't end up like your father. Don't let him pull that wealthy wool over your eyes. Kazuya knew it was coming, Kazuya knew what was on the line._

Heihachi began to drop his head down and a host of men, some dressed in normal garb, some in suits began to look up. Hwoarang did not know it but he was damn near surrounded. "Grandfather…" Jin said breathlessly, his hands clenched into fists. "Your quarrel is with me, settle this..with me."

Heihachi continued the agonizing roll of his head in a downward position. "There is no quarrel with you, Jin. None but saving you the dishonor of losing your word, of disrespecting your blood and ancestors, all for this Korean street trash. A shame, really."

Jins mouth fell agape, he turned to see Hwoarang, standing with his arms folded some distance away. He could not stand to see the Blood Talon hurt and even together, they could not take out as many as there were that threatened them. No Martial Art was effective against a gun. And Jin was sure each of Heihachi's men were loaded to the teeth. It was too risky. "I..I will return with you."

Heihachi looked up now and the sea of faces returned to their business. "Excellent decision, Jin. Come, the compound is awaiting you. Your favorite dinner tonight, perhaps? Something to celebrate your advancement into the next round?"

Jin took a deep breath holding his head down. He had nothing to say as Heihachi placed his hand on the small of the young Kazamas spine, leading him away from the tournament grounds.

"Kazama!" Hwoarang yelled out, starting at a pace toward Jin as Heihachi escorted his lover away. "Jin!" He called again.

Jin looked up, his eyes connecting with the amber of Hwoarangs, just as three innocently dressed by standers came in the path between them. "It is no longer appropriate for you to be here, kid. Kazama Jin and Mishima Heihachi thank you for coming to witness this round. Your next match will be posted in the lobby of the hotel next week. You are reminded to vacate your belongings from your suite." The tallest, thickest of the three said, his hand clasped to an ear piece, repeating what was said to him from the guard closest to Heihachi.

Hwoarang might have been paused in his intention to get to Jin, but he would not be stopped. Not when it counted most. He said nothing more, standing with complete still, so unbecoming of the Blood Talon who was never stoic for long. He kept the eye contact with Jin until the Japanese youth was ushered into a sleek black Limo and whisked away.

The ride back to the Mishima Estate was somber, quiet. Jin knew there was going to be hell to pay, he just did not know when..or how it would come. "You did not have to throw him out of his suite. Where do you expect him to go?" He said with bitterness.

"It is not my concern what the hood rat does for shelter. I am sure he will locate a burrow to keep him until next he fights." Heihachi said with self satisfaction. "And what should your care be for this new friend of yours? What allegiance do you owe him that you would obey his law over my own."

"Grandfather, that is not.." Jin began but was cut off by the icy glare of his grandfather.

"Do not add lying to the list of your offenses, boy. I can see you have been far too spoiled now, to become so insolent to the hand that feeds you. We will right this issue, Jin. You will be a Mishima, if it kills you." Heihachi emphasized his words before turning back to the window, the road to the estate dragging on as Jin sat in complete silence now, his mind on Hwoarang….

The Blood Talon found his belongings in the lobby of the hotel. A meager duffle of his own next to Jins. The guards mistakenly believed the larger one to have been Hwoarangs. He would take it anyway, knowing he would see Jin again.

Hwoarang loaded his bike, tossing the burnt out end of a cigarette from his lips and onto oncoming traffic. He had some calls to make, some friends to get in touch with. They would bring him all the provisions he needed from Korea. Japanese soil would become the new turf the Blood Talon would call home. Anywhere Jin was, Hwoarang was prepared to stay for as long as it took.

Heihachi was extremely quiet, his smile broad to know he had won the war, as far as he was concerned. Jin, the prize, was back where he belonged and his plans to draw Toshin with the boys powerful Chi had been rescued and would proceed. Hwoarang was not a concern of his, not any longer. There was no way contact could be forged or maintained beneath his scrutinizing eyes. And Jin himself was now solemn and withdrawn, his spirit injured, powerless. Precisely how Heihachi wanted him. He would beat the insolence out of him, or rather, Toshin would, should the God of Fighting take the bait Heihachi was banking on.

All was going according to plan. All was right in the Elder Mishimas world now. He was unstoppable.

Jin ate his dinner in quiet, still unchanged from the tournament. He kept his eyes downcast to his plate, even though he was not hungry.

"Do you not like your supper, Jin?" Heihachi asked, quizzically. The Elder Mishima was taking some joy in seeing the dwindled spirit of his grandson. How easily Jin showed emotion compared to Kazuya. How much more gratifying that breaking spirit was when Heihachi could see it.

"It is fine, Grandfather." Jin replied, blankly, pushing the seaweed roll, steeped in ginger along his plate with his silver chopsticks.

"Your concerning yourself with that Korean street trash?" Heihachi said with matter of fact arrogance as he hefted a piece of sliced pork to his eager lips.

Jins eyes burned as he looked up, catching Heihachis gaze and once more quelching the fire that burned within him. The situation was tender, precarious and Jin could not afford to let the depth of his need for Hwoarang show before his grandfather. "May I be excused?"

Heihachi placed the cloth napkin, that had been on his lap, on the table. "For what purpose?"

"I would like to walk in the gardens." Jin said, mimicking his grandfathers actions with the napkin.

"Very well. I do not need to remind you that the borders of the estate are well guarded. I trust you will not be disappearing, once again?" Heihachi said, lifting the white wine to his lips now, his words barely holding back the deadly meaning in his mind.

"No, Sir." Jin sighed softly, rising from the table.

"Oh, Jin. Your presence will be required at the Dojo in the morning. Sunrise. I expect that Mishima fire in your blood, boy." Heihachi said with a wicked glint in his eye. The kind of gleam that turned Jins stomach.

"Yes, Grandfather." Jin replied with a heavy sigh and bowed his head in respect to Heihachi before leaving the lavish dining area for the comfort of the outdoors.

Jin left his shoes inside, wanting to feel the blades of spring grass beneath his feet. He walked the line of the opulent, manicured gardens, his head heavy with thoughts, fears. The weight of the world was crashing down on him, injuring his already fragile soul. Had Kazama Jun wanted this for her only son? When her last wish was made to Jin before the monster, Toshin had ended her life prematurely, Jun had asked Jin to seek refuge with his grandfather in Tokyo, far from the world he knew in Yakushima. He had gone, run scared, too young and under skilled to have taken on what he knew as the God of Fighting.

But every moment of his training had been leading up to this. Every moment had been leading in to vindicating his mothers death at the hand of the Ogre and Heihachi had sworn Toshin would make itself known. But not yet, nothing yet.

Jin found himself drawing toward the unkempt woods at the line of the estates manicured lawn. He knew he was being watched by security, he could feel it as he sought refuge within the wooded confines. He walked for a long while, several acres until he came to a place he felt safe within. A small spot that was cleared, as though another had used it before him to escape the heavy presence and solitude of the Mishima Estate. Jin imagined his father, Kazuya, as a young boy had come here, had found happiness here. Perhaps, later in his days, Kazuya had brought his mother here to show her the beauty held in the wilderness. Jin would never know, but he could imagine.

Brambles clung to the hem of Jins Gi pants. He felt no cold breeze from the still damp spring night. Every breath of nature that caressed him recalled to him Hwoarangs touches, the heat and fire the Koreans' skin could inflict upon him. He felt incomplete without the Blood Talon near him and it was enough to want to bring tears to his eyes.

_Kazama Jin._

The Japanese youth turned, violently, hearing the whisper of the wind call to him. Nothing was near him, nothing in his immediate sight but a cool, chilled feeling rushed up his naked spine.

_Long have I waited for what your Kazama blood has prevented for all this time._

Jin whirled around, searching both ground and sky with limited visibility in the darkness. "Who is there?"

_Your heritage. Your blood._

Jin felt the shiver more violently up his back, eyes wide as he turned in a circle to find where the voice was coming from. No nature was disturbed, no delicate bird songs halting in recognition of another person. The Voice. It was not without him, but within him.

"Show yourself!" Jin said, trying to grasp the situation, swearing he was beginning to lose his mind.

A faint vapor moved against the moons light, an incorporeal thing with the swiftness of the breeze. _I will do one better, Kazama Jin. I will show you who you truly are._

The vapor shifted in violent motion and lurched forward, slamming into Jins body with the heat of a thousand suns. Jin fell to his knee, releasing a stunted scream as fire burned his flesh. One hand grasped the offended upper arm, covering over where the flesh felt as though it was being seared from the bone.

And then it was gone.

Jin stood, panting, his hand bracing a tree to give him strength and support. Tears misted his eyes and through that blurry vision, the Japanese youth saw the work of the unknown hand. Seared black flesh swirled in an odd shape, burned into his forearm. It was tender to his inspection and sizzled when his tears fell over it. "What is happening to me?"

Hwoarang leaned against the building that housed the oldest Punk Club venue in Tokyo, the East Shinjuku district. It was a place that buzzed with the same vibe of the back alleys of Korea, a neatly trimmed neighborhood with a dark history and even darker present. It was right where the Blood Talon and two of his best men, Saatchi and Han, had decided to call home. There had been rivalry that first night. Something the infamous Korean Blood Talon was eager for. It didn't take long and certainly did not take much, considering how the strongest of Japanese fighter in this area could not even begin to compare with the experience Hwoarang carried. Having challenged and won the dispute, this is where the three had decided to set up, had decided to hustle for cash. With the relatively anti Korean sentiment that swept through Tokyo, the Blood Talon and his soldiers were in high demand. As a result, Hwoarangs wallet was already damn near unable to close.

It had been five nights and four days since last he had seen Jin. And Kazama was thick in his thoughts at this moment, as he had been every moment since their brusque parting. The Blood Talon lifted the slim rolled cigarette to his lips, vaguely listening to Saatchi and Han bickering amongst themselves to his side.

The two were his best soldiers on the street and had come as soon as they hustled enough money to heed the Blood Talons call. Hwoarang had promised them the chance to make big time money out here, Japanese money. He had not lied. More were coming, more of the Blood Talons soldiers would run wild through these streets. It was all a matter of time.

In the meantime, between thoughts of Jin, Hwoarang had set himself up in a small, abandoned dwelling not far from Maru-ichi, a gothic style museum of failed subcultures. It was a dead end area in town, a place the street soldiers could come and go without too much notice or interference. It was a two story building, dilapidated, but with enough rooms to leave some privacy. And of course, Hwoarang had chosen the upper level as his own and bought only three things he really needed in that abandoned building. A mattress, a mirror and a sand kick bag.

"Its dead tonight. You want to hit out?" Han asked in native Korean. Saatchi already seemed in agreement.

"I have something I have to do. Go ahead. Keep your phone on you, incase." Hwoarang said, pushing off of the building, the thrum of the live punk music too brash for his state of mind right now.

Han raised a brow, not used to Hwoarang being so enigmatic. "You want us to pick something up?"

Hwoarang nodded, tossing the smoked down joint to the street. "Yeah, tap a keg. I will be back in awhile. See if you can make any money on the way, try the train station. Someone's always looking for a fight there."

With that, Saatchi and Han traded shoulder shrugs, muttering utterances the Blood Talon only barely caught and could not care less about. "Something's different about him? Something is not right…"

The Blood Talon revved the engine of the cycle between his thighs, lowering his goggles over his amber eyes, keeping the remainder of his two friends words from assailing him. Something wasn't right. He had questions and only one person had the answers. And Hwoarang knew just how to get them.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5: Properties of Steel

The Blood Talon lurked in the shadows of the Mishima estate, hell bent on his mission to find Jin. His bike hidden some distance away, he had managed to keep under the watchful eye of Heihachi's surveillance team. He had not told Jin at the time, but Hwoarang memorized the streets leading to the secured, gated home, had noticed the perimeters the suited men walked while he waited outside for Kazama to gather his things. Sure, he looked as though he had been busy, smoking a cigarette and admiring the landscape, but he had deeper purpose and tonight would be when it would come into play.

Hwoarang came over the wall, landing with leonine grace on the other side, slinking back to make his lithe form as flat as possible to avoid detection. He waited several moments for any sign of being caught in the act. Nothing.

With that, the Blood Talon proceeded, keeping low as he could, using the lay of the land to his advantage. Rock outcroppings became shelter from wary eyes, trees became his camouflage, in shadow. It was something nearly abhorrent, how one so flamboyant could be so stealthy, could stalk with such grace. But the Blood Talon had worn many masks in his day, and petty theft all the way to Grand Larceny was not below his stride.

Hwoarang slid into the acreage he knew would be relatively unprotected, a wilderness of sorts and a way to get along the back paths near the Ancestral Dojo he could spy some distance away. If he could make it that far, he could make it to the estate. From there, he was on a wing and a prayer to find the right room to break into. Jin had said something about the east wing. So, using a well honed tactical skill, the Blood Talon determined what direction he would need to move in order to find a weak point on the east wing and make his move.

The Korean youth came to a small clearing where several trees had fallen over. A meager fire pit was in the center of it, showing it had been used often if not recently. Darkness was thick about him, only moonlight shone in ribbons, dripping like milk through that clearing.

A twig, in the distance snapped and Hwoarang flattened himself against a lifeless tree. Its girth was enough to shield him for the moment, until the moon rose higher, then his cover would be blown. Sinking down onto his haunches, the Blood Talon steadied his breathing as he heard someone draw closer.

Jin stepped into the small clearing this night as he had every night he was at the Estate. His muscles were sore, his body aching from the extremes in training Heihachi had pushed him through. Grandfather insisted on perfection, harnessing Jins fatal lightning, setting scenarios that tested the very boundary of the Japanese youths endurance and limits. And the Elder Mishima did so, with a maniacal gleam in his eyes. Every drop of blood Jin spilled, every near sprain of his limbs or yelp of agony was a symphony to Heihachi. This was his punishment for disobedience, cleverly wrought beneath the exterior of training and preparation for the next round in the King of Iron Fist Tournament.

Jin ran his fingers through his hair, drawing himself down onto a dead log, laying like a couch across the floor of this patch of wilderness. His black slacks melded against his skin, the deep grey button down shirt he wore, he left untucked and only half buttoned as if asserting himself through dress, where he could not in his life.

The King of Iron Fist Tournament would begin again in two days. A one week sabbatical had been put in place to prepare the fighters that remained for the Quarterfinals. It would be grueling and there would be little rest until Heihachi himself would defend his title and this week was of importance to set the stage. Jin was as ready as he could be, his body strained to the limits in preparation. Heihachi had been kind enough to give him this night to himself, to mend as the Elder Mishima worked late hours in order to make his own, diabolical preparations. Some of which included the research that was classified as the Devil Gene Anamorphous.

Kazama Jins hand fell to the blackened flesh, the tattoo that bore into his upper left arm now clothed away from sight. He had not told his grandfather of the occurrence, afraid of what would be said of its arrival. Heihachi did not question why Jin had chosen to wear a black T with his Gi. Something so trivial mattered little to him. There had been no voices over the past several days, no odd situations that came to Jin as it had that night. But now, Kazama was in the sacred place, eager to see if another night would pass without word from the vapor that had marked him.

The Japanese youth sighed deeply in the night air, wondering how it was that he would manage to escape the shackles of his life. He wondered if Hwoarang had hated him now that it had been so many days since their last contact. Jin had nothing but time on his hands, time to think about what had transpired between he and the Blood Talon. And the Japanese carefully weighed it, counter balanced it against the odds of that particular set of hours being a fluke. Were his attractions truly so delicate that another male could stir his heat to boiling? Was there truly desire there, or had it been the novelty of awakening sexuality eager for what it could grasp?

Jin heard a noise, faint as it was. It echoed behind him and he rose with incredible agility, despite the reprimand of overworked muscles. "Who is there?" He called out softly, hoping for the entity that had scarred him to have taken on presence and mind. Jin had no intention of alerting the patrol to his whereabouts, other than Heihachi's personal attendant within the Estate.

Hwoarang, realizing he had given himself away as he watched Jin from a mere few feet away, slowly rose and stepped out from behind the tree he had been using as cover. "Kazama." The Blood Talon whispered, holding Jins name with the same tenacity and possessiveness as the moonlight that cradled the Japanese youths flesh.

Jin felt his breath hitch against his lips, startled at the presence and surprised at who it revealed itself to be. A small smile crept over his lips as he beheld Hwoarang after so many days, burning the Korean youths beauty into his senses as though it was but an apparition that sought to reaffirm his desire. "Hwoarang?" Jin whispered in return, his lips going dry as they clung to the Blood Talons chosen name, savoring the way it left his mouth.

The Blood Talon leaned against the tree, one arm fully extended and melding into the dark bark. His lithe body was shifted in the most leonine, sensual way, one hip extended outward accentuating his long, deadly legs. "I figured since you weren't coming around, I would come to you."

Jin stood, frozen in place, his eyes awed to the sight before him. "I haven't been let out further than the estate. Heihachi does not trust me, he is weary that I will leave once more…and that this time, I will not be found."

"I find it hard to believe that gramps can keep you under thumb so easily." Hwoarang answered with a snicker in his voice. "Why didn't you put up a fight? Why did you leave with him?"

Jin shivered in the crisp spring nights air. His mind was flooded with a thousand excuses, a thousand words of praise and endearment. Hwoarangs very scent reached him and made his body respond, made all thoughts of carefulness leave him. "He said he would hurt you…he would have you injured…shipped back to Korea…"

Hwoarang sniggered aloud. "As if the ol' bastard could." The excuse wasn't good enough. Jin had left his side and Jin was his.

"Hwoarang…I would not take the chance, I would not see you hurt if I could stop it." Jin said, realizing his words sounded like a plea. "I have thought of you every moment, till hearing your name spoken aloud was..painful." The Japanese beautys' eyes were giving that same plea for Hwoarang to believe him.

The Blood Talon paced for a moment, the moonlight glistening from his outline. He was angry. Angry that Jin had gone, angry that Kazama was more than likely telling the truth even now when he wanted to rage like a jilted boyfriend. How easily Jin ate away at his anger was alarming.

Hwoarang stopped pacing and drew closer to Jin, holding his hand outward. "Don't leave me like that again. It makes me crazy when you are not around." He whispered, a dangerous edge of obsession in his voice. All of this was as new to Hwoarang as it was to Jin. Never had the Blood Talon been so obsessed with a lover.

Jins hand met the Blood Talons, entwining fingers in a soft dance that brought every eager passion to his flesh. "I wont, if I can help it. Forgive me…"

The Blood Talon felt the heat rise around them the moment they were skin to skin. He drew Jin closer to him, his free hand instantly sliding into the wealth of his Japanese beauty's obsidian mane. Body to body, they drank heavy breaths between them, a tangle of hands braced at the center, against two nearly fused hearts. "I've missed you, baby." Hwoarang purred sensually, his breathing erratic now that he was pressed so tight to Jin.

The Japanese youth shuddered, his lips sliding against Hwoarangs with such lascivious intent it nearly shocked him. "I am glad your here…I don't want to miss you…anymore. It hurts…" Jin had no thought to his words, they rolled from his mouth as if another mind worked through him. The Blood Talon was intoxication to his senses and he was so quickly drowning in the heady libation.

Hwoarangs fingers curled around those upswept obsidian tendrils, drawing Jins mouth to his, sliding the hot slick muscle of his tongue into the welcoming heat of his lovers mouth. The Blood Talon drank down the moans Jin slowly pressed, tasting the heat in the Japanese' mouth, the unspoken need that lingered so thick between them. As Jin wrapped his free hand around Hwoarangs waist, the Blood Talon pressed their aching hips together…surprised at the tenacity that forced Jin into a counter-rhythm to the clothed thrust. Kazamas body knew what it so deeply wanted…and slowly learned the law of natural instinct.

"I want you beneath me…" Hwoarang moaned as his lips lingered a breath from Jins. "I want to make you mine."

Jin shivered, his hand curling tighter around the Blood Talons perfectly narrow waist. Those words awoke a burning sensation beneath his skin until he shivered so thickly, Hwoarang was forced to press his lover back against the strength of a still living tree. It frightened Jin how badly he wanted to be Hwoarangs, how desperately he wanted his awakening to complete… "Not here…not in the woods…too many ears around to hear us…"

Hwoarang smoothed his fingers through Jins mane. "Come back to my place with me. My bike is hidden down the road some distance and its not much but we can be alone and together…" _Except for Saatchi and Han. Damn it._ How would they manage to hide out from the Blood Talons best street demons?

"I..I cant leave here, they will know something is wrong if I don't return soon. They will come for me, find me with you…" Jin said, breathlessly, feeling how thickly his swollen length pressed between Hwoarangs hip and his own slacks. "The Estate. East Wing…my rooms. I can sneak you up there…and we can be alone..."

"What about Gramps?" Hwoarang said, his tongue sliding against Jins lower, trembling lip.

"He wont be home until late. He is working on the tournament schedule." Jin moaned softly, igniting another flame inside of the Blood Talon.

"Alright. Lets get there, as quick as possible." Hwoarang purred darkly, sliding back from Jins body.

Jin entered the East Wing, locking the doors to his rooms behind him with trembling hands. He was fearful of being caught, fearful of taking things this far with Hwoarang. But Jin was more fearful that there might never be another moment like this again. And those fears hurried his movements as he flipped on the lights in his rooms, opening the doors on his rooms private balcony. Looking down along the darkness, he strained to see if the Blood Talon was in position. There was nothing in his field of vision but the white light flooding out onto the lawn below.

Jin ran his fingers through his already taloused mane, walking away from the balcony and into the wealth of the opulent chambers, worried that his lingering there would draw attention from the Estates security force. He bit his lip, nervously and lifted the lighter next to his bed, sparking some candles to life before flipping on the stereo. He wanted to mask any and all sounds that would come from his rooms. That very thought sent his stomach to a thick, heavy knot. Was it going to hurt?

Jin took a deep breath as he knelt down to change stations on the radio, opting instead for a CD of some American Techno style music. The driving beats would drown out nearly anything, even if he did keep it on a lower volume, afraid to draw the attendants to his room demanding he lower his music.

Hwoarang slid over the rail of the balcony, dropping down with catlike grace to his haunches. Jin turned, coming to a stand as saw the Blood Talon make his way into the room, ducking quickly into the confines of Jins chamber. The Japanese beauty quickly closed and latched the balcony doors, pulling the heavy curtains over the panes of glass to avoid unsavory eyes looking in from the lawn.

"Nice room you have here." Hwoarang took a moment to look around, brushing a hand back through his coppery tresses. He wasn't showing it, but the opulence of the estate was not lost on him. Jins bedroom was the size of the entire suite he had been staying in before rudely tossed out. It was rich, lavish in neutral colors, beige with brass accents. A huge stereo played Techno in the background. The bed as four post, mahogany, littered with gold and burgundy pillows and a comforter that was heavy velvet in dark brown. It looked of something that had been featured in a magazine.

The Blood Talon could see there was a door leading to another room, from the opening he could see it was a living room of sorts, the end of a leather couch was visible and a host of track recessed lighting. So, this was what it felt like to be filthy rich?

"I have three rooms in the east wing. The rest are guest bedrooms. Two of them I can not get in, they are locked…and I have tried. One belonged to my father, the other to his adopted brother. I cant get anymore information out of Grandfather about either of them, or those rooms." Jin said, nervously as the Blood Talon closed the distance between them.

"I am not thinking about any room but this one, right now." Hwoarang purred dangerously, a smile pressed lasciviously over his velvet soft lips. The room was steeped in Jins scent, making the Korean beauty feel almost high as one arm drew around Jins waist, pulling his lover close to him.

Jin flushed, his hands rushing down the Blood Talons toned, mesh covered arms. "Neither am I."

Hwoarangs fingers slid beneath Jins deep grey shirt, tracing slowly along his exquisite, supple spine. Skin like silk shuddered beneath the Blood Talons touch and a slow moan drew Jins mouth closer, till Hwoarang could drink the Japanese beautys thick, shallow breaths. ""I am going to make you feel good, baby. Make you feel like you never have before."

"You already do." Jin moaned, his trembling lips seeking reassurance as they slid against Hwoarangs. He groaned when he felt that familiar, hot muscle slick against his own, making the kiss more feral, more wantonly beautiful.

Hwoarangs fingers trailed around Jins waist, nimble between them as the belt Jin wore came undone. Kazama shuddered softly, his lips lingering along his lovers, eyes tightly closed as he felt the belt and his slacks slowly melting away from his hips. The Blood Talons hot hand tunneled along the length of his thick, slickening shaft and Jin gasped softly, his nails pressuring into the mesh that covered Hwoarangs arms.

"I know it feels good, baby…" Hwoarang moaned, Jins length riding his palm with slow, practiced ease. The Blood Talons free hand dipped into his lovers slacks, forcing them down as his warm palm cupped Jins firm backside. "…but not as good as you feel under my hands."

Jin moaned, his forehead pressing against Hwoarangs as he felt his body tense with the firm cupping against his backside. "Hwoa-kun…" He whispered the heated term of endearment with such startling innocence the Blood Talon felt his desire flare. No one had ever called him that.

The Korean beauty shivered, his hand sliding up from Jins perfect backside to brace against the small of his spine, positioning Jin closer to the bed. Hwoarang used his strength to back Jin up slowly, until Kazama fell back on the bed, startled and flushed with desire. The Blood Talon followed, sliding his shirt off, tossing it to the floor. Slowly, he drew against Jin, his knee bent between his lovers thighs. "Take your shirt off." The Blood Talon whispered, sliding his lips along the achingly soft velvet of his lovers.

With trembling fingers, Jin unbuttoned his shirt, his eyes softly closed for fear this was a dream…a very realistic dream. Hwoarangs fingers slid along his Japanese beautys chest, tracing the musculature before sliding his obedient touch to his lovers shoulders, stripping Jin of the shirt.

"Now, baby, unbutton my jeans…its time for you to see me the way you have always wanted to."

Jin shivered as Hwoarang lowered his lips to his throat, placing slow whet traces of his tongue against his Adams apple…in a line to his collar bone. He could not help but moan as he fumbled with the button and fly, Jins eager hands sliding the tight denim down the Blood Talons hips.

Hwoarang moaned deeply, his teeth grazing the heated jugular vein that pulsed beneath Jins skin, pressuring his lover to slide further back onto the bed. The Blood Talon leaned upward, stepping out of his jeans and exposing the full lilt of his lithe, muscular form to Jins feasting eyes. The Japanese beauty was breathless as he absorbed the length and width of the Blood Talons perfect length, thick and long, proud and eager. The rosy crown was already glistening with slick. "Hwoa-kun..so…beautiful…how..how is that going to…fit?"

Hwoarang purred, sliding his weight against Jin, forcing his lover onto his back before he lifted once more, his fingers tucked around the belt loop of Jins black slacks. Without a thought, Jin lifted his hips slightly, giving the Blood Talon all the edge he needed to remove and toss the wadded up slacks to the ground. "Don't worry baby, it fits…"

Jin shivered as Hwoarang covered over his naked form, blanketing the Japanese beauty with hot Korean skin. Bodies fused together, the Blood Talon slowly pressed his own aching shaft into Jins, making his lover groan with the sudden, strict contact. He lingered there, applying burning pressure as he rubbed himself into Jins equal hard desire.

Jin shivered, his fingers pressing into Hwoarangs shoulders. The sensation was numbingly hot, blinding the Japanese beauty as hot streaks of light filled in behind his closed eyes. "Ahh, Hwoa-kun…" Jin moaned louder as his lover encircled two eager, glistening shafts with one hand, stroking them in perfect unison.

"You like that, baby?" Hwoarang purred thickly, feeling the sticky pre-lust between them coating his fingers. Jin felt so fucking good beneath him, it was torture.

"Yes…" Jin murmured against the intense sound of his own heart beating in his ears. He felt his lover slowly trace a slick tongue along the nape of his neck, down to the firm muscle of his chest…swirling with sudden heated desire along an already taut bud of his right nipple…and then the left. The pressure was intense and building in the pit of Jins stomach. There was nothing in this world, if not his Hwoa-kun.

Slowly, the feeling of Hwoarangs mouth against his tender nipples resided, the hot slick muscle trailing further down Jins abdomen until the Japanese beauty could feel his lovers breath against his throbbing length.

Hwoarang savored the rich, salty sweet taste of Jins heat, his hot tongue making a firm lap at the underside, feeling how Jin shuddered and groaned with increased intensity. He wanted to give his beauty every feeling, every sensation that would make him starve for another caress, another moment alone with the fiery Korean. He wanted Jin to be his, alone…

Jin gasped as the Blood Talon suckled his throbbing sack into that hot mouth. He squirmed, wanting to arch into…and away from the intense pressure. He swore he could not breath, swore he would die in this moment and never feel another touch.

The Blood Talon teased his lover to a heated pitch, reaching up with one long arm to grasp the scattered gold and burgundy pillows, sliding them beneath Jins writhing hips during a throbbing upward thrust of his beautys hips. Jin groaned, realizing something was beneath him and stilled his breath for that single moment. "What..what are you..doing…"

Hwoarang let his tongue lap along the inside of Jins thighs as he spread his lovers legs further, his beautys hips tilted upward now with the pillows piled beneath. "Preparing you, baby…" The Blood Talon closed his eyes, drinking in the hot musky scent of Jins core before lowering his mouth along such a tight slit, grazing against the guarding ring of muscle…the entry to the bliss Hwoarang sought.

Jins arms came behind him, helping him to sit up as the sudden sensation ripped through him. It was intense and overpowering, the feel of Hwoarangs tongue slick and hot against the gateway of his body. "Hwoa-kun!"

The Blood Talon slowly lifted his fiery copper head upward. "Lay back..open yourself to me…" He purred with a commanding tone that made Jin shiver. A worried look fell over Jins features to realize where Hwoarangs mouth was going to linger and yet, it filled him with equal portions of desire to mingle with that rising fear.

"Good." Hwoarang purred, his hands winding around Jins thighs as his mouth returned, slick tongue lapping at the puckered entrance, drowning in the hot musky taste. He could have released himself then and there, from the very intimate taste of Jin alone…but he calmed himself, steeled his resolve and let his tongue circle the guarding ring, feeling the muscle ease as Jin drank in his praise. And the moment Jin was relaxed and gasping at the heated feelings, the Blood Talon pressured the slick muscle past the gateway and heard the cry that issued from his lovers mouth. It was the most incredible heat that built in Hwoarangs body, he swore those flames of need would consume him if he did not prepare Jin faster than this…

Hwoarang thrust his tongue as deep into Jins core as he could, his teeth braced at the entranceway, adding a heated sense of danger as he suddenly, thickly suckled over the puckered whole. Jin spasmed, arching his hips as Hwoarang held tight to him. He had to be sure Jin would be slick enough to take him, he had not brought lubrication with him…the Blood Talon did not think the night would go like this…

"Ahh…Hwoa-kun!" Jin squirmed, his hand braced in his hair as he shivered as though his body was on the verge of hypothermia. It was so intense, every sensation of Hwoarangs tongue buried inside of him was more than he could take.

The Blood Talon lifted his mouth, licking over his lips, satisfied that Jin would be prepared enough. He was covered in his lovers essence…and he loved the way it felt. Hwoarang slowly leaned back, his fingertip replacing his tongue at the entranceway into Jins body. He felt his lover gasp, felt Jin to tense and rigid once more. "I have to stretch you open baby…"

"I..I don't think I can take it…" Jin cried out in heated agony, feeling Hwoarangs fingertip pressure against his gateway.

"I cant make you mine..if you don't let me open you…" Hwoarang purred in a teasingly hot voice that shot up Jins spine like a flare. "Relax your body and let me into you…"

Jin groaned, his fingers wadded in the velvet comforter. He was afraid. Afraid of the pain he would feel…afraid of the awakening that was overtaking his body, the lusty need to feel Hwoarang inside of him.

"Good, baby." Hwoarang purred as he felt Jins opening untense, even if slightly. It would be enough.

The Blood Talon pressured his finger in with extreme patience, which was no easy feat, not as heated as he was feeling. Hot, eager walls surrounded Hwoarangs finger, squeezing and milking the digit until it was buried inside of his beautys depths.

"Ohh…God…" Jin cried out at the invasion, biting down on his lip. The pressure was intense…the pain was minimal..it felt..different…foreign…his body invaded by his lovers slender finger.

"God damn, Jin….your making me want to rip you open…" Hwoarang groaned, holding onto his sanity with record patience. He was hard and throbbing…eager to take possession of what was his. The Blood Talon slid his finger outward, adding a second with a thick, hard thrust inward.

"Hwoa-kun…" Jin groaned, shaking when he felt a thicker thrust inward. The dull ache of pain was close. The Korean beautys words were stinging him, stoking is flames…melting him down into pure, base steel.

Hwoarang thrust his fingers in with slow, practiced ease. When he felt the hot tremble slowly recede, he began scissoring his digits within Jins body..stretching the walls to break down the resistance. This was it, the moment he could claim Jin…his lover was ready…

Jin cried out as the fingers were slid from his body, finally releasing his teeth from his lower lip, tasting the rich copper tang of blood where they had gnashed too deeply. He felt Hwoarang climb up along his body, feeling his rock hard desire press along the Blood Talons taut torso. He could not bring his eyes to open. It felt empty without Hwoarangs fingers inside of him…it was an ache he needed…

Hwoarang positioned himself between Jins spread thighs, the crown of his desire resting against the guarding ring of muscle. The Blood Talon straightened his arms, palms flat on either side of Jins head as he let his crown circle the target, the gateway into Jins core. Hwoarang leaned forward, taking Jins lips, letting his lover eagerly taste the awaiting mouth…taste his own heat in the depths of the Blood Talons mouth.

"Taste that baby? That's you…sweet…sugary sweet." Hwoarang moaned, his length eager to bury itself to the hilt inside of his lover. Jin was his prize…Jin was his treasure…and he would lose his mind now if he did not claim him.

"Hwoa-kun…" Jin moaned like a mantra, his hands sliding up to grasp his lovers wrists before interjecting his fingers beneath Hwoarangs grip. Their fingers entwined as the Blood Talon pressured Jin down like a captive into the mattress. "I…I need..you…"

"I know baby…" Hwoarang groaned, closing his eyes for a single moment to savor the feeling of Jin in this prone, perfect position. He wanted to tear his lover open, break him into pieces with lust only to rebuild him. "Open your eyes, Jin-kun…"

Jins lashes fluttered, breath catching against his bleeding lip. Hwoarangs mouth was red with the blood that welled from the gnash..

"Keep your eyes open..I need your eyes…" Hwoarang groaned, pressuring past the tight ring of muscle, his crown entering into Jins body as his lover choked back his desire to scream with the sudden invasion, the thick head breaking through.

Jin tensed hard, his nails ripping into Hwoarangs knuckles, their fingers entwined. He did not break eye contact…enraptured in those amber orbs. "Ohh…God…"

Hwoarang held tight to those fingers, hissing as he felt the skin break at his knuckles. It awoke the sadism he kept beneath the surface and he fought to keep it at bay. "Yes baby, I am your god…"

Jin tried to squirm beneath the pressure, shaking as Hwoarang slowly thrust his crown into tight, unused walls. It was intense…it was too intense.

Hwoarang could not take anymore, could not keep his desire at bay. With one thick, hard thrust, the Blood Talon joined them to the hilt and Jin bit down on his lip to avoid screaming from the agony, the hot thick pain. Tears welled in his eyes, glistening like ice. _It hurts…God…it hurts…_

The Blood Talon kept still, his body shaking with the intense pressure. "God damn baby…so fucking tight…" He groaned, holding Jins eyes. Jins tears fell, streaming down the sides of his face. Never had the Blood Talon seen anything so pure, so beautiful.

"Hurts….Hwoa-kun…you hurt…." Jin gasped, his body trying with all its might to pressure the thick invasion from his core. It was too intense, too much.

"I know baby…let it pass. Breath for me…breath…let me in…" Hwoarang hissed through gritted teeth. Jins core was milking him, spasming all around him..hot velvet gagging on his length.

"Too much…" Jin tried to squirm, tried to alleviate the pressure.

"Don't fight it…Jin-kun…trust me…trust us…" Hwoarang groaned with husky desire.

Jin felt the tears continue to flow, his teeth digging into the fresh open wound on his lip. He forced himself to focus, forced himself to believe, to trust. Hwoarang did not move, kept himself completely still despite the instinct to thrust, deep and fast. "I do…I trust..you…"

Jin breathed deep ragged breaths, feeling the agony slowly beginning to subside. It was turning into something different…something hot and thick…the pain was…good. It was slowly sinking in to his body. It felt..good.

Hwoarang leaned his lips down, tongue eager to lap the hot font of blood that colored his lovers lips. The coppery tang was exquisite, quenching and igniting his thirst for more. Jins body was yielding, submitting to the pressure, the agony. And the Blood Talon thrust, slow at first…slow and shallow, his head rolling back as he kept Jin tightly pinned beneath him.

Jin moaned thickly, his core stretched enough to accommodate Hwoarangs length in slow, shallow thrusts. It was mind numbing, the sensations were overtaking him…calling up instincts he never knew he possessed. And in that instant, he found himself counter thrusting against Hwoarang in silent pleading for more.

The Blood Talon felt the shift in his lovers desire, holding Jins eyes as he thrust now with deeper, faster strokes. "God Damn Jin….God Damn you feel so good…we fit together…were made to fit together…"

Jin cried out with heated whimpers of mingled pain and pleasure. Hwoarangs thrust was achingly hot and his body formed eagerly around his lovers width, strong legs bracing against the Blood Talons waist. As the thrusts shifted to something more predatory, Jin felt his length riding Hwoarangs taut torso, making him shiver and bite back the screams building in his throat. "Hwoa-kun…more…more of you…"

Hwoarang melted into the hot lava surrounding him, Jins words..his pleas like hot fingers down his spine. His thrust became less controlled, letting desire guide his motion, tempt his ardor as he dove headlong into Jins core, feeling how perfectly his lover squeezed around him. "Your mine, baby…tell me…say it…"

Jin could not form words, his body striking counter rhythm to his lovers length..feeling every slide in and out of his core as sharp as a dagger through his chest. He could barely breath…so ready to find release…too intense..too much…

Hwoarang pulled out of Jins core, his crown braced at the ring of muscle. His body was glistening with a thin sheen of sweat, his arms shaking even as his fingers kept Jins entwined and captured against the bed. "Tell me…"

Jin shivered at the sudden, aching absence of his lovers length within him, teetering already at the edge of release… "Yours…Hwoa-kun…please…"

Hwoarang felt he satisfaction of Jins wanton words. "That's right baby..mine…my Jin-kun…and now..I will give us both..what we need…" The Blood Talon shivered, driving himself to the root inside of Jins eager body. The wave spasmed against his spine, just as Jins core milked and pleaded for more.

Jin cried out, his head arching upward against the bed, body seeking that counter rhythm as Hwoarang drove deep and hard into him. Uniting them. The way they were meant to be. This is how they were meant to be.

Hwoarang thrust at fevered pace, aching as he felt every hot wave. His crown pressed tight to Jins pleasure nub, the prostate buried deep like treasure.

That released the fatal lightning as Jin choked back his cries, shaking as his length rubbed thick against Hwoarangs taut torso. The burn was heated pleasure, charring the Blood Talons skin as Jin pressed headlong toward release. So fucking tight…

The Blood Talons strength, ardor was enough to break Jin open..and the scent of blood and musk mingled in the room. It drove Hwoarang to the edge of his sanity, he could not take it anymore…his baby wanted the pain and the pleasure…and he would give it…give all Jin could take.

Jin arched, thrusting into his lovers abdomen, shaking…pleading with his hoarse cries. Each stroke was exquisite pain, perfect pleasure. He could not take it…he could not take it anymore. The Japanese beautys' eyes closed tightly as he wavered on the edge of release.

"Cum for me Jin-kun…let it go…" The Blood talon barely managed, shaking and spiraling toward his own end.

His words were like gold. Jin could not take it…and with a hot groan..Jins fatal lighting shifted, dissipated…black markings forming over his forehead is if the Blood Talon released an ancient instinct..an ancient power. "Hwoa..rang…." He gasped as the sudden tense and clenching of his body forced a spill of thick hot ribbons of seed..coating two bodies in the wealth of life force. Jin writhed, groaning and shifting like a captured beast…the black markings on his face slowly fading…

Hwoarang rode the spasms, thrusting hard and deep into his lovers heat, feeling the splashes of sticky release coat his torso and chest. He could not take anymore, he could not hold it back…his body heaving forward in a rapid flurry of desire, spilling hot lava into Jins core…


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6: Molding Molten Metal

Jin rested on his side, one leg thrown over to a nearly fetal position to alleviate the pressure to his backside. His breath was slow to return to normal. The agony had subsided but the sudden emptiness he felt with Hwoarang no longer united to him was itself, an agony. Never had he felt such intense sensations, never did he believe they could exist.

The Blood Talon sat upright, deadly legs dripping over the bed, running his fingers through his sweat dampened coppery tendrils. He flicked the ashes of his cigarette into his palm. Jin had not objected to his need for a cigarette to consummate the end of an incredible evening. The weight of it all was washing over Hwoarang, breaking like waves on a receding wall. Jin was his. In this moment, Kazama Jin belonged to the Blood Talon.

Hwoarang settled the ashes and the burnt out end of his cigarette in the candle, burning beside the bed. Turning to face Jin, the Blood Talon smiled with charismatic perfection. "How are you feeling, Jin-kun?" He meant to ask about the black tattoo on Jins upper arm. It hadn't been there before, not that the Blood Talon noticed,. _Gramps wouldn't go for that tattoo either, wonder what its all about._

Jin purred, obsidian tendrils slipping against his flushed cheek as he braced the pillow against his neck. "I feel..like I could fly." The smile across his lips was almost intoxicated and tempered with equal exhaustion. "How do you feel?"

"Like I have been waiting a lifetime for this, baby." Hwoarang purred, his hand sliding down Jins exposed back to the firm, still twitching muscles of his posterior. "God damn, I never thought you could feel this good."

Jin flushed with a soft moan. The twitch of his backside intensified where Hwoarang touched him, sore in a way he had never felt before. The Blood Talon knew the feeling, though for himself it had been a long time since it was on his end. Rather, he had worked many lovers through the ache, but never with this much care. "You will feel better in a day or so. You have been using a part of your body in a way..your not used to. It wont hurt as much the next time though. I think you might have liked that pain just a little too much." He chided with a dark, sensual smile.

Jin blushed, his eyes closing at the intense scrutiny of the Blood Talons amber gaze. He liked the idea that there would be a next time. "Yeah..I did."

Hwoarang let his fingers drip down Jins aching cleft, feeling his lover tense heatedly. "Don't worry baby, the more you need the more I can give you. Everything you need, I will give to you."

Jin moaned, licking his dry lips. Hwoarang rose from the bed, his body stained in glistening, dried essence. With grace, he gathered his long forgotten clothing, sliding tight fitting jeans over his long legs till they rested over his hips. He slid his shirt on, brushing fingertips through his wild coppery tendrils. "I should get outta here before Gramps comes home." He said with a smile, rising to button his jeans, pocketing the cigarette butt, not wanting to leave evidence behind, more than just his lovers broken virginity.

Jin leaned up with a wince of pain. "I don't want you to leave, Hwoa-kun…"

Hwoarang smiled, kneeling on the bed to claim Jins heated mouth. He could have ravaged his beauty all night long, but he knew Jin could not continue even if he wanted to, he needed time to adjust, to rest and regain strength and ease his newly enlivened core.

Jin moaned as he felt Hwoarangs mouth withdraw slowly. He didn't like this. He wanted his lover to stay the night with him, if only to remind him the night had happened, his innocence had been so willingly, perfectly surrendered. That he was Hwoarangs as much as the Blood Talon was his.

Hwoarang licked his lips, enjoying Jins taste. "Listen, I set up a place on the East Shinjuku district, not far from the Maru-ichi. If things get too busted here, come and find me."

Jin nodded softly, his cheek resting against his upper arm. He did not want the Blood Talon to leave his side. "Tomorrow…Oujisan is letting me go to the Library…the one across from Mishima Tech. I have to get some material together if I want to get next semester secured at that College…"

"Don't you already have an easy in, yanno, as a Mishima?" Hwoarang laughed, sliding his spurred boots on.

"I am not a Mishima. Even if it is half of my blood." Jin said with a start, wincing slightly as he forced his body to relax. "I am going to be there tomorrow, most of the afternoon."

"I will see what I can do to sneak in there." Hwoarang smile, folding his jeans down over the leather of his boots. "Get some rest, Jin-kun…"

The Blood Talon went to the balcony, killing the lights with a flick of the switch. He opened the double doors and paused, taking a last look back at his lover, sprawled across the bed, naked except for the moon glow on his skin. And with that, the Blood Talon leapt over the balcony railing and out onto the Mishima Estate, aimed for his bike, some distance away.

Hwoarang returned to his squatters paradise, his body eager for rest. With his bike secured firmly in the entranceway, the Blood Talon back kicked the door closed, hearing the familiar click of the lock before securing a bolt to the worn down wood. From the innards of the decrepit building, he could hear Saatchi and Han, carrying on, the sound of female voices as an underscore of accompaniment. Hwoarang shook his head and slowly walked toward the place the three had decided would be the "main room".

Han was the first to look up from his distractions. "Hwoarang…" he smiled, pleased to see his friend some hours later than previous expected. But he knew better than to question the Blood Talon. He was sure there was money..or personal business that Hwoarang had seen fit to attend to. "…bout time your back. Hope you don't mind the company. You want her?" Han smiled thickly, his mouth leaving the chest of the Japanese female he had pinned beneath him, offering to share the treasure with the street captain.

Saatchi looked up, panting softly as the female above him kept him otherwise, occupied. "Welcome home…" The Blood Talon looked to be in a significantly better mood than before.

Hwoarang laughed, shaking his head. He moved deeper into the room, retrieving a plastic cup, tapping the keg with precision. "Not interested in tagging up tonight. You boys have fun." He said in his native language, taking a quick pull of the foaming libation, wiping his mouth clean. "I need a shower, Han, flip the breaker downstairs so I have some hot water. It will kick off by the time I am done." Hot water was a luxury and it lasted as long as the breaker would hold before giving out again.

Han nodded and rose from his prey with a smile. Since when did Hwoarang turn down a good screw?

The Blood Talon turned without another word and climbed the barely structurally sound stairs to the floor he had claimed as his own.

Hwoarang set his drink down, disrobing for his shower, the scent of Jin still lingering over his body. He wanted desperately to cling to that scent as he tossed his clothing to the floor beside his new bed. Flicking on the hot water with a quick motion, the Blood Talon could not keep from smiling, now that he was in solitude, waiting for the water to warm and steam through his chambers. This place must have served as more than just a storehouse. Perhaps the building owner had taken up residence here as well?

Placing a few side feint kicks against the suspended sand bag, the Blood Talon moaned softly, once more drinking in the musk Jin had left behind on his most private flesh. He would do what he could to catch up with Jin tomorrow..or rather, later today, at the library. Tournament would be starting up again, soon, it was going to get harder and harder to find a way to see each other.

With a soft sigh, the Blood Talon dropped his deadly kicks and slid toward the steaming shower, the hot water nearly scalding as it rushed down his spine and through his previously sweat soaked mane. He wanted Jin to be here with him, to enjoy this simple pleasure. But now was not the time for such delusions of grandeur.

Jin awoke to the sound of knocking at his bedroom door. Half slit eyes, still clouded with sleep, the Japanese youth ran his fingers through his hair. "I am not yet done sleeping." He growled, groggily, his body aching and no longer sore, thanks to the careful positioning he had set himself in through the night. The reminder of that ache sent a smile across his lips, even as Jin laid his head down on the cradled pillow once more.

"Jin." Heihachis voice barked through the wood. "Open this door. I will have no locks between my grandson and I."

Jin shuddered hearing his grandfathers voice. There was no pleasant tenor in it any longer, no praise or mindful words. Shaking off the sleep, Jin rose from the bed, kicking over the shed clothing from last night and retrieving his black silk robe from the edge of the four post bed. He waddled toward the door, opening it with a yawn.

He was met with a sweeping kick that dropped him directly on his backside. Heihachi stood over the boy, hands on his hips. For an older gentleman, his abilities had not diminished. The Elder Mishima was still as dangerous now as he must have been 40 years ago.

Jin groaned in pain, pressing his back against the wall. His eyes were alert now, his mind preparing a defensive plan to counterstrike if necessary. Jin did not want to have to do that, it would only cause more trouble than it would solve. "Oujisan!"

"You missed your training this morning. You are not to miss your training at any point. There is no excuse for it!" The Elder Mishima hissed. He sniffed the air and looked to Jin, still on the ground with an angry glare. "Have you been smoking in here, Jin?"

Jins eyes went wide. "No, no grandfather. I had candles lit last evening during my meditation. Some are new, scented. I would not poison my body with such horrid chemicals!"

Heihachi crossed both hands over his still massive chest. Jin had never been so absent of mind before, nor given his grandfather reason to doubt his word. But that was all before his disappearance. Before Hwoarang had joined forces with his grandson. The self named Blood Talon would have his coming too him, in none to short of a time. "Get yourself up and dressed. Your acceptance paper for Mishima Polytech needs work done on it today. You will not disgrace that as you have your training. This evening, when I return home, you will meet me in the dojo and be prepared for an intensive reeducation. Is this understood, Jin?"

Jin nodded, using the wall to brace himself upward to a stand. Thankful for the cool support to his body, after his evening with Hwoarang. Something that seemed would become few and far between now that the tournament was once more preparing to recommence.

Heihachi turned, walking away, closing the door behind him. He would have the locks to Jins rooms removed this afternoon. This disgrace would not happen again.

Jin stretched his body slowly, walking toward the closed balcony doors, pressing the heavy velvet drapery back to reveal the brilliant sunlight of a new day. He had been too exhausted the night before to open the curtains to taste the mornings first light and his body, normally trained on rising early was in heavy protest of such after the evening he had spent. Jin realized, with silent awe as he looked out along the Estate, this was the first time in several days he had not had nightmares…this was the first time in several days he had slept soundly, awoken with an inner smile…filled to the brim as he was with his Korean beauty.

Did the sun truly shine brighter now that his body had received the lustful attention of his fiery lover? Was this the sensation that ran beneath the skin, stirred the very heat of his body…to have given his virginal stature and set it out to pasture? Was this what it was to be embraced by the sins of the flesh? To whatever end those questions could have taken, Jin felt like a new man. He felt worldly, awake…eager to find Hwoarang and taste the heat and beauty of his lovers skin. The moon had been all the brighter the moment it silhouetted his Korean beauty..and now the sun was even more brilliant than Jin could remember, now that he had been made…Hwoarangs. The trepidation was nearly gone for Jin. The fears that made him nearly reconsider seeing the Blood Talon again had almost dissipated. If this was his path, to find attraction and pleasure in the arms of another male, then he would not fight it…but would not, exactly, scream this new found intoxication from the rooftops of Tokyo either. He could not afford that chance to his reputation or the Blood Talons. Their secret would be forced to remain…just that.

Hwoarang awoke with the filtered ribbons of sunlight streaming through the plastic covered, cracked windows from the sidewall of the room. The air was staunch with the build up of heat from the orbs rays and it released a plume of dust and spores from the old, decrepit building.

Running his fingers through his wild coppery mane, the Blood Talon rose with a stiff yawn and slow stretch of his body before falling resoundingly back against the bed. It was clear after 10am, he could feel it in his bones. This was the earliest Hwoarang ever rose on a day he was not scheduled to train or fight. But Jin was heavy in his thoughts and the Blood Talon smiled when he realized by this time, the Japanese beauty would already be at the library, studying like the diligent student he knew Jin had to be.

The Blood Talon had never completed school. He ducked out in the tenth grade to devote his time to making money, to hustling and training under Baek DoSans tutelage. When his former Master had learned of this, Baek had begun schooling the boy in impromptu lesson plans, hell bent that someday Hwoarang would manage to complete High School, go to college on a scholarship using Martial Arts as his qualification for it…and perhaps learn there were other ways to make money than to sell blood and bruise the body in the streets. Hwoarang wanted to live up to that but DoSans plans were too high for him to reach in a place like Korea.

With the prize money he would win from the Tournament, he could get that diploma, maybe pursue his degree in something, maybe Business…maybe open his own Dojang and teach Tae Kwon Do to the traditional Japanese. He would be near Jin that way. He wouldn't have to live in a rat hole. He could put his street soldiers to work, real honest money, maybe even start something for the kids back in Korea, some kind of program to get them turned around before they were too old to realize they couldn't do any better than hustling, selling drugs or prostitution. He could do a good deal with that kind of money. The Blood Talon could make a home for himself with nice things..a place Jin would want to be and maybe not want to leave.

The Korean youth rubbed his eyes, forcing himself to sit up again, long lithe legs dripping over the bed which was positioned on the floor, no frame. He was daydreaming but he liked the way this one worked out. He liked the way it felt to think of Jin staying around in his life.

Hwoarang grasped his guitar from the side of the bed, knocking over a shitload of magazines and some clippings he had taken, now yellowed and frayed. Some of those saved newsprints were of Baek Do San and his local competitions, some of the Blood Talon from his younger days with his martial art that had made news. Do San and Korea expected things out of him. Do San and his homeland said he had potential. What his homeland did not give him was security and the promise of a better life. And Do San was rumored dead. That was more than likely. The Blood Talon wanted to live out these pipe dreams, do something real good for his community. Catch was, he had to take the tournament first.

But before all of that, he had to see Jin.

Hwoarang strummed the hard strings, leaving the guitar unplugged as he stared blankly at the way the magazines had fallen over, the clippings taking on a brilliant life beneath rays of filthy sunlight. Someday, he would have real windows, floor to ceiling windows that brought in true light…not just the reflected rays through worn down plastic covering broken and cracked panes.

Jin Kazama set down his jacket, letting the black long coat slide over the arm of the library chair. He opened his notebook, drawing the pencil up to rest behind his ear. Rolling up his sleeves, the Japanese youth prepared himself to look for the books he would need to resource for his thesis paper on "Pollution: Animal Endangerment and the risk to Society at Large." He picked this topic based on the teachings of his mother and the love instilled in him of all things that breath and grow. Nature was where he felt most comfortable, wilderness was where he felt free and alive. His intentions to study environmental conservation through science and technology would not be wasted. He would make Kazama Jun proud.

Jin once more rolled up the sleeves of his sweater, a heavy Irish cable knit that already felt too warm in the days growing light. He did not realize how mild it would be once the earth heated to perfection. But he would be forced to make due, for the time being.

The Japanese youth worked his way across the various shelves, grasping books by the spine and reverently flipping to the index to see if it was what he needed. Before long, he had a stack in his arms and returned to the table where he could begin outlining and rewriting tidbits with full footnotes and connotations in his notebook. Two hours flew by like a whirlwind as Jin returned the books he had noted from and sought a few more. A side stack were ready to be checked out, ones he found the most useful information contained within.

Jin returned to the table, three heavy tomes held against his hip…and he smiled instantly.

Hwoarang was seated at his table, spurred boots crossed at the ankles atop the wood, denim jacket thrown over haphazardly. The Blood Talon looked simply perfect in his form fitting jeans and deep green chaps, a flattering tight leather vest of black and orange clinging to his lithe chest. Jin could read the depth of every muscle in the Blood Talons arms and drank in the vision down to Hwoarangs fingerless gloves. He was a sculpture of perfection and complete intoxication.

"Well, well, Kazama. Hitting the books hard, eh?" Hwoarang smiled, chewing errantly on the wooden pick held firmly against his back teeth. "Figured you'd be pretty spent after last night." The dripping innuendo in his voice making Jin shiver subtly beneath his cream colored sweater.

Jin licked his lips softly, averting his eyes as his cheeks flushed. "I'm getting a late start but making some progress."

Hwoarang leaned forward, picking up a heavy tome to inspect the binding. "'Environmental Conservation through Technological Advances.' With a title like that, I'm feeling pretty pumped." he smiled, flipping open the book to scan the index. The Blood Talon did not give away his difficulty with the English language these books were written in. He could make due with what Do San taught him but he preferred to glance at his native language rather than crude and confusing English texts. "So, is this what your planning to do after college?"

Jin laughed softly, drawing himself to a seat. He opened the first of the three books he carried, but his eyes were on Hwoarang. "I would like to, yes. There are a lot of things I want to do. Its in my power to try to make the world a better place, help it live in harmony with its own past and in balance with all the other life on this planet."

Hwoarang smiled, despite himself. _Goody-Goody shit. How did I know Kazama would be a tree hugger?_ The quip was on the tip of his tongue. It was old habit, custom to banter down Jins ideals. His lover was a contradiction sometimes. _A pacifist who fights. Didn't Gandhi just starve or something, when he wanted his way?_ "Well, when you got some of gramps money behind you, why not do something good with it?"

Jin shook his head. "I don't want Zaibatsu grant money for this. I have a little money tied up in stocks and bonds. My mother had told me that before my father died, he had secured some things for us both. I want to do this on my own, away from Oujisan. My mother, I believe, would have wanted me to stand on my own two feet."

Hwoarang tossed the book down and leaned back in the chair, a half smile draped over his lips. "Mommas boy." He purred. Somehow, the statement was less effective when he purred.

Jin smiled more brilliantly, watching the Blood Talon through the raven strands of hair that fell before his eyes. Hwoarangs voice was too warm to take the quip the way Jin was sure it was intended. "I am almost done here, do you want to grab some lunch or something?"

The Blood Talon gave a side smile, lowering his voice to the soothing soft tone Jin had come to find was a fast growing addiction. "Yeah, but only if you let me buy. You got your bike with you?"

Jin flipped open to the page his finger had been keeping in the spine. "No, I was dropped off. I am free and clear till 6p, then, I have to train."

"Good, you get to ride my bitch seat." Hwoarang licked his lips softly. He was, of course, referring to his bike, and the room left on the back of his old Harley for another passenger. It was referred to as the 'bitch seat' since men often bought the cycles and their chicks often rode behind them.

Jin tapped his pencil against his notebook, a shiver flushing through his skin. He didn't have to say anything, did not have to speak aloud the memories from last night. Hwoarang could read it in his eyes and the subtle quiver beneath his clothing. Jin knew that, without hesitation.

Jin checked out his books as Hwoarang tied the denim jacket to his hips. The Blood Talon tried to look nonchalant, cool as he could in a public library. Jin walked beside him to where he parked his bike, the meter nearly ticked out. They caught it just in time.

Hwoarang secured the books, bound together in a leather strap, to the back of his bike as Jin slid on his long, heavy black jacket. The Blood Talon straddled his bike, the chrome gleaming in the sharp sunlight. Jin was not far behind, though he tried to keep his identity more secretive, afraid the Library might be watched by Heihachis men…his own personal babysitters. Kazamas hands held loosely to the Blood Talons hips, his cheeks flushing with heat of contact, even if clothing had been a barrier in that moment.

"Where are we going?" Jin asked, leaning his chest against Hwoarangs supple spine, feverish and desperate for the contact.

The Blood Talon looked over his shoulder, meeting his lovers eyes, their lips so close. Hwoarang was aching to suckle the juice from Jins ripe mouth. "I have the perfect place, baby." He smiled, his voice low to prevent anyone but his former rival from hearing it.

Jin shivered as the Blood Talon leapt upward suddenly, kick starting the engine with a loud bang, feeling the thrum between his thighs as the machine roared to life. "Hold on."

Instinctively, Jin tightened hold on the Korean beautys' hips. It was a good thing, Hwoarang weaved in and out of traffic at a heart wrenching pace, making sure they couldn't be followed..they couldn't be identified in a whirl of speed and chrome. No one was going to take Jin away from him, this afternoon.

Hwoarang looked over at Jin as he tried desperately to read the Korean menu. Although Jin had learned the basics of the language, he could not read the Hangul lettering, so much more blocky than the Kanji, Hiragana, Katakana or romanji. His eyes squinted as he tried to make sense of what was before him, but Jin was filing miserably.

"Let me do the honors." Hwoarang smiled, his menu already settled. He had chosen this small, authentic Korean eatery, not too far from the East Shinjuku district he now called home. The Blood Talon wanted to give his lover a taste of his culture, having learned so much of the Japanese during his stay here. Hwoarang was a fast learner.

Jin closed the menu with a smile. The atmosphere was not lost on Jin, nor the reason Hwoarang had chosen this place. He was sharing just a piece of his enigmatic self with his lover and despite the fears Jin felt clenching his gut on some of the horrors of Korean cuisine, he would gladly partake of it if it taught him something about the Blood Talon. "Just remember…"

"Yeah, I know. You don't eat meat." The Blood Talon smiled, raising his hand and tapping his fingers inward in a 'come hither' way to let the server know they were ready to order.

Jin smiled and let his Korean beauty do the ordering, sipping thoughtfully on his water, listening to every inflection of the Blood Talons native dialect. It did not take long and the server left them, alone at last.

"Did you get a tattoo or something?" Hwoarang asked as Jin chewed errantly on the ice cube in his mouth. "You have this weird mark on your arm, don't remember that from our matches."

Jin paled ever so slightly and sat in silence for several moments. He was not sure he was ready to explain something he, himself did not understand. How do you tell someone the voices in your head warned you of the coming mark? How do you tell someone you hear voices to begin with? "It's a long story…but you could say that it is a tattoo…its recent, a few days old."

The Japanese was holding back something. Keeping it locked away beneath Hwoarangs amber gaze. Hwoarang was not sure why Jin would need to keep this secretive but it must have been significant. The silence bothered Hwoarang. Silence always bothered him. He was too fiery, too active to remain quiet for long.

"So, where in Korea are you from? Seoul?" Jin asked with a flustered smile, changing the subject. The Blood Talon let it fly for now, he would get back to this line of questioning later. He didn't want Jin uncomfortable, not when their time was so short.

"The Cholla region of Korea, a northern province of Ch'ungch'ong, some distance from Seoul." Hwoarang said, taking up his glass of water as well. It was known for being an underdeveloped, rural community, its mainstay being agricultural and kept with the low reputation for its hothead, aggressive people. Why wouldn't his fellow kin be aggressive? They had to fight like dogs for every scrap of food, every shred of dignity. But Hwoarang didn't stay around there too long. Not much money to be made in a small village like that, not much farming to be done in Pusan either, unless you were knee deep in rice paddies. The money was made in the more northern territories where Koreans thought they were something special, something elite.

Jin tried to recall the map of Korea, tried to recall the history of its people. He wanted to know, needed to know where the Blood Talon called home. "I am not familiar with it, I am sorry."

"Even people who are will not admit they know about us. Its not the best place to call home. But its home, anyways." Hwoarang said with a prideful, arrogant smile. "We aren't all born with a Japanese silver chopstick between the lips."

Jin flinched slightly, distracting himself with his half empty glass of water. "Do you miss home?"

"I am calling Japanese soil home, these days. I intend to stick around, even after I win this tournament." Hwoarang said in normal, brazen fashion. _Not just because I want a better life..but because of you, Jin-kun._

Jin smiled softly. "I like that idea…" The Japanese youth cleared his throat, his words and thoughts interrupted as the server returned, quite quickly with plates of food.

Kazama settled his napkin against his leg, showing proper elitist mannerisms that were foreign to the Blood Talon. He waited until the server left as the scent of the plates before him overcame him to ask the burning questions. "What is this?"

The Blood Talon smiled, lifting up the chopsticks as he gazed hungrily to his own plate. "Let me see if I can try and explain this. Alright, what you have in front of you is _Jjol-myeon…_the thick noodles are mixed with a hot pepper paste and the fresh carrots and bean sprouts. Now, the one to the right, that is _Baechu Kimchi,_ a classic dish. Its spoiled cabbage, soaked in Brine, red pepper, garlic and sponge seaweed. You can get by on Kimchi for a year and never grow tired of it." Hwoarang sounded quite prideful as he explained the contents of the two dishes before Jin.

"Spoiled cabbage?" Jin asked, poking the split soup style side dish with a wary eye.

"I shouldn't have told you till you were done. Trust me, its good stuff." Hwoarang smiled. He had ordered the same style Kimchi as Jin, giving the Japanese beauty some connection. "They are both pretty spicy, sure that mouth of yours can handle it?"

Jin shuddered at the thought of spoiled cabbage, still. "Well, my palate will sure try." He smiled. This was not about him, it was about getting in touch with his Korean lovers culture. "What do you have? That's the Kimchi, right?"

Hwoarang speared a piece of fish. "_Nakji Bokkeum_. Stir fried octopus with red and black peppers. Damn can this stuff clean you out, don't think the fires of hell can even compare." He smiled, popping a piece into his mouth, savoring the taste. A little slice of home.

Jin tried to swallow his taste buds, not sure what in the hell he was going to do, if this taste did not sit well with him. As if answering a dare from Hwoarangs eyes, Jin lifted a taste of the Jjol-myeon, chewing with extreme caution. To his surprise, it was good. Spicy. But that was never something that averted Jin. He had a love of feisty foods. And feisty Koreans.

Pleased with the first endeavor, Jin took a slow sip of water to clear his mouth of the burning taste of the noodles. Settling down his chopsticks on a piece of the cabbage, the Japanese youth tentatively brought the interesting food to his lips and slowly, carefully chewed. The flavor was heady, thick and overcoming all other tastes. Jin had expected it to be worse than it was, had expected it to taste of spoil and horror…but he was also pleasantly surprised to find it was rich with spice. He had to admit he liked it at the first taste.

"Well?" Hwoarang asked, awaiting Jin to pass verdict as he paused in his own meal. "It cant be that bad, I mean I didn't order you dog soup."

Jin smiled. "They don't really make soup out of dogs in Korea, do they?"

Hwoarang shook his head. "Aren't you supposed to know this stuff, pretty cultured rich boy and all?" How many slights could he fit in one sentence?

Kazama shook his head. "Hwoa-kun…its delicious, thank you."

The Blood Talon could have melted into his meal at the soft, almost loving look in Jins eyes. He felt a flush come to his features, this was new to him. Sharing his life, his culture…his meal with a former rival turned lover…turned boyfriend? "Yeah, there is still dog soup in Korea, mostly for the older folks and stuff. When you have nothing to eat, Lassie starts looking pretty good."


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7: Steel meets Flame

Jin had to keep wiping his dripping nose in his kerchief as he entered the dwelling Hwoarang was calling home, all of that spicy food was cleaning out his system quite efficiently. Kazama Jin felt bad that the Blood Talon had been relegated to a run down two story building when he had been staying in the suite provided for the King of Iron Fist Tournament competitors. It had been his fault the Blood Talon was tossed out and left to rot in Tokyo, so far from home.

He followed Hwoarang up to the second story, smiling softly as he entered the place the Korean beauty called, "His space." It had all the essentials Hwoarang would need, full length mirror propped against the wall, a small CD stereo next to a series of piled up music, a host of spilled over magazines, a duffle the Blood Talon had been living out of, safeguarded by a pile of used clothing. Next to it was Jins own duffle, abandoned in the suddenness of being captured by Heihachi.

There was a sand filled kick bag suspended by a chain from the rotting ceiling, the dust marks of Hwoarangs feet around it, showing it was well used and losing its newness. Jin could not help but smile as he looked over the electric guitar and small amp. He did not recall seeing that in the suite, but was sure it was hidden beneath dirty clothing.

Jins fingers slid over the wound metal strings with reverence, as though it was a holy relic. "Do you play?"

"Nah, just collects dust." Hwoarang smiled, sparking a cigarette to life and inhaling the smoke as though offering sacrament to an ancient censure. "Its not much, but for the time being its home." He flicked the ashes on the floor, kicking at the embers with a booted foot to be sure they were burnt down.

Jin looked down at the unmade bed, a host of red disposable cups standing sentry on the right side of the mattress and box spring with no frame to hold it up from the floor. There was a shower in the corner of the room with a see through curtain to protect the creaking floor from water. It looked clean on the inside, as did the toilet beside it. "Its great. Really." The only saving grace of this place was that Hwoarang called it home. That made it as bright as a palace in Jins eyes.

"Your just being nice, but that's alright…I like you nice." Hwoarang smiled, exhaling from his cigarette. "Let me take your coat."

Jin slid out of the heavy jacket, breathing a sigh of relief to have the burden of it gone. Handing it over, he rolled his sleeves up, his hands sliding into the pockets of his deep brown slacks. The Blood Talon folded the long coat over his arm, settling it over the sand kick bag, not really having anywhere to shield it from the dust of this place.

"So, you live here with Saatchi and Han, you said. Are you expecting them home, soon?" Jin asked with a soft, suggestive smile.

"Nah, they are out making some cash. I don't expect them till it gets dark…" Hwoarang smiled, moving closer to Jin as though reading the Japanese beautys' mind. "So, why don't you come on over here and get close…" He said, tossing his cigarette butt into used plastic cup, those come hither eyes fixed on their target.

Hwoarangs mouth was a never ending source of wonder and desire, thickly exotic and tinged with nicotine, the Korean beautys lips were an intoxication in their own right. Jins hands traveled along his lovers supple spine, fingertips recalling with heated desire the last evenings events. It built a hunger, a fire inside of the Japanese…an ache that only boiled over and made Jin wonder if it could ever be satiated.

Hwoarang rolled over from his side to his back, smiling with contented bliss at the heated session unfolding before them. "God damn, you get me hot." The Blood Talon groaned. He did not want to push Jin, knowing by the careful way the Japanese beauty was walking, he was sore. The Blood Talon could not help but feel prideful of Jins careful stride, it ignited the arrogance in him to know his lover, his former rival, had never been broken open before.

Jins fingers trailed down the front of Hwoarangs chest, tentatively at first but hearing the sharper intake of breath, found boldness in his moves, enough to explore and let his senses overcome him. "Your skin…I've never felt anything…as soft as your skin." He purred, his lips trailing along Hwoarangs taut, eager nipple. He could not keep the moan from building up in the back of his throat any more than he could keep the heat from building against his confining slacks.

Jins hands, his mouth..felt so fucking good, it was driving Hwoarang to a heated shiver. His fingers trailed through his Japanese beautys gelled obsidian mane, tugging at the entwined tendrils, eliciting a thick breath from Jin with each harder grasp. His newly broken lover made Hwoarang feel sacred…holy with each moment of his attention. The feeling was new and the Blood Talon hated to admit to himself how much he truly liked it.

Jins teeth gnashed against the bud of Hwoarangs nipple as the Blood Talon tugged particularly fierce at the hair gathered around his fingers. Hearing the Korean beauty suck back a pained breath, Jin lifted his mouth. "I..Im sorry, Hwoa-kun…"

The Blood Talon licked his lips. "No baby…don't say your sorry…I like alittle pain myself…"

A shiver flew up Jins spine, unable to stop the moan of pleasure Hwoarangs words brought him. "I will keep that in mind.." He smiled, flushed, heated at the increasing play between them. Jin slowly traced his tongue down the line of his lovers torso, licking and kissing a path to Hwoarangs tight denim clad waist. Kazamas mouth formed soft kisses to the thick rising flesh bound in the Blood Talons pants, shifting downward and using his shoulder to brace his muscular weight.

"Ahh, baby…don't tease me…It might spit at you..but I promise it doesn't bite." Hwoarang groaned, arching his hips up to the heat and pressure beneath Jins lips.

Jins free hand slid between Hwoarangs legs, cupping and kneading at the Blood Talons firm thighs, feeling how the Korean beauty eagerly parted for him. "Can I taste you…here?"

Hwoarang swore he would leak through his jeans the moment Jin asked him. "Damn baby, you don't have to ask…" He hissed, feeling Jins hand unbuttoning, unzipping and releasing his length with shivering fingers.

Jin quivered more visibly now, the Blood Talons full, thick length exposed to him. His lover was perfect…and quite…shaved. Kazama lowered his lips to the tip, kissing the swollen pink crown with a sense of alternating chastity and desire. He had never done this before and he wanted to give Hwoarang the same pleasure he had received the night before. "If I don't do something..right…"

"Shh, Jin-kun…I am hot for every touch you give me…" Hwoarang purred thickly, craning his neck upward to watch his Japanese beauty.

Jin rolled the Blood Talons denim jeans down as he drew up onto his knees before his lovers spread thighs, laying the material on the edge of the bed with careful reverence. Kazamas eyes held Hwoarangs as he slowly tipped his head down, taking the tip between his lips. Jin was mindful, instinctual to slide his lips over his teeth, afraid to tear the throbbing flesh.

The taste of the Blood Talons skin was instant, intense and gratifying. Salty and yet, sweet…it was the perfect balance…and the scent of desire that came from his lovers taut core was filling him, running over like a cup, overfilled. "Hwoa-kun…" Jin moaned, opening his mouth to let his tongue slide along the thick vein that ran the underside of Hwoarangs length.

The Blood Talon grasped the sheets beneath his free hand, the other rebinding itself to Jins hair, tugging till his lover was forced to turn his head slightly to the side. "God Damn baby…I want you to choke on me…I want you to fucking choke on me…"

Jin shivered, his mouth instinctively claiming his lovers length, to the root…forcing himself to breath in and try to loosen the muscles that instantly constricted. He could feel a thick cough coming on from the pressure and quickly released. The Japanese beauty felt suddenly…very inadequate to handle his fiery lover.

Hwoarangs hand unwound itself from the sheets, fingertips sliding down Jins shoulder. "Make your cheeks sink in, suck…while I hit myself off in that hot mouth of yours…" He groaned, panting.

Jin let his mouth slide back to the crown, pursing his lips as hard as he could till he felt the pressure of his lips locking to his lovers tip. These muscles had never been used like this, not since he was a child suckling a candy.

The Blood Talon thrust upward into that enveloping mouth, feeling Jin nearly lose his balance. But he would not be thwarted. He wanted to see Hwoarang writhe..the way he had last night. Strengthening resolve and will to do this, Jin reclaimed his lovers crown with eager desire.

"Ahh, that's it baby." Hwoarang groaned, thrusting upward, feeling the knot in his gut strengthen, shooting back through him like a recoiling snake. He did not spare the rod, not till he heard his lover nearly gag. He liked the sound…as much as he liked the image of Jin hungry to take him in.

The Japanese beauty closed his eyes, moaning as he felt Hwoarang use his mouth, thrusting with thick pressure…but he knew his lover was holding back…he knew the force of the Blood Talons hips. Leaning on one hand for support, Jin never realized his free hand was rubbing against the thick need buried in his slacks.

The sight was hot. Hwoarang groaned, stilling his hips. "God damn, Jin-kun…look at you…"

Jin shivered, releasing his aching mouth, panting heavily as he noted where his hand rested on the outside of his slacks. Cheeks flushed with sudden embarrassment at the wanton gaze of his lover, Jin froze. "I..I…"

Hwoarangs hand slid down his own slick length, coning his fingers around the naked shaft and thrusting up to meet the tunnel of his tight grip. "Get undressed." He said in a heated hiss, spreading his thighs to give his pleasuring hand a stronger, thicker grip.

Jin shivered, nearly tearing open the button of his slacks, forcing himself to stand and slide out of the confining material…watching in awe and desire as the Blood Talon stroked his own rigid flesh. The sight threatened Jin with that tight knot deep in his gut. Shaking hands steadied him as he crawled onto the bed, not sure what the Blood Talon had planned..but eager to find out. "Its you..who is making me crazy now.."

Hwoarang leaned upward, releasing his hand from his own length, eager mouth overtaking Jins. He felt his lover melt into the kiss, falling victim to the hot, twining muscles, battling for primal supremacy. What he was about to do, was something he swore off. He gave himself to no one. Not anymore. Jin, was the exception to the rule, now, as it seemed he was always meant to be.

Breaking away with a heated groan, the Blood Talon grasped Jins length in a tight grip, forcing his lover atop him. "You ready to ride me, baby?"

Jin felt the hiss leave his lips, his head dripping down as his arms were forced to position just above each side of Hwoarangs shoulders, below him on the bed for stability. "Don't we..don't we need…something…wet?"

Hwoarangs long, lithe legs crossed at Jins back, teasing his own entrance with his lovers crown. Jins face flushed brilliant crimson, breath hard and heavy. "No…I want it bareback…I like it to hurt…" The Blood Talons words were so thick, so wanton, Jin felt his own length shiver in his lovers grip. "..you like that thought, don't you, baby?" The perfect sadist, the perfect masochist. Hwoarang could be both, either…

"No…and yes.." Jin moaned, nearly helpless at the mercy of the battling desire within him. He had liked the way it hurt, that little spice of pain to the pleasure of feeling Hwoarang inside of him, fused to his body. Was there something wrong with him? Was there something evil within him for finding the thought of the Blood Talons pleasure, mixing with pain, arousing? He had no fucking control over himself when he was with Hwoarang!

The Blood Talon groaned, feeling Jin twitch in his grip. Kazama was positioned at his narrow pucker, the crown pressuring the guarding ring of muscle. Hwoarangs hand released from Jins thickness, grip falling on his lover shoulders. "Split me open, Jin-kun…"

Jins back shivered, his hips pressuring forward, feeling the entrance swallow his crown. The corridor was narrow, spasming and eager to devour him…it was maddening and tight. "Hwoa-kun…" he cried out, the sudden intensity jarring his very soul.

The Blood Talon tensed, feeling his core breeched, but only slightly, wanted more. God damn, he wanted more. "Don't think…Ahh baby, don't think about it..keep moving…" _It hurts. Damn. Damn it feels good._

Jin felt the tension of Hwoarangs body, the heat of his lovers wanton words made more sterling by the sharp breaths echoing from the Blood Talons lips. He thrust himself forward to the thickest portion of his length, an inch behind the crown, the muscle clenching so tight on his flesh, he swore he could not move any further. "Oh God…" Jin shivered, feeling a trickle of sweat bead down his spine from the exertion.

"Your killing me Jin-kun…" Hwoarang tried to stop himself from squirming, from wanting to shift and drive himself up into the Japanese beautys quivering length. "Let it go…baby…your body knows what to do…"

Jin felt the heat spread from his core, the taste of Ozone hitting the air as he closed his eyes tight, trying to block out all the voices that told him to stop, told him this was wrong…this was going too far. "Only…Only for you…Hwoa-kun…" Jin cried out, forcing everything else to shut out but the tight, spasming sensation around his crown. With a sharp groan, Jin thrust past the thickest part of his shaft, breaking open the guarding ring of muscle with one thick, vicious movement that brought him full and hard into his lovers core…fusing them together in that one fluid motion.

Hwoarangs nails bit into Jins shoulders as he cried out with such pleasure tinged agony, it sent shivers through the Japanese beautys spine. They were one, united, joined…the way they should be. And it felt like the Blood Talon was being torn open, turned inside out…the pain was aching, alternating between sharp and dull…overfilled, stuffed with such thick heat. Hwoarangs body was choking on Jins length.

Jin stayed perfectly still, breathing hard and uneven, his eyes waiting for Hwoarangs to open, the Blood Talons face tense and so beautiful it was breathtaking. "Hwoa-kun…" Jin moaned as softly as he could. His lovers silence was scaring him…

Hwoarang felt his core clenching, screaming at the intrusion…he went with that tension, remaining perfectly still, letting his body adjust to the spreading wealth within him. "My body has to..adjust baby..its been a long time..since I have been stretched…" The Blood Talon groaned, shaking. "God damn, you feel good…you hurt good…"

Jin held himself as rigid as possible, drinking in Hwoarangs heated breath, lips searching for the Blood Talons as a thin trickle of sweat dripped down the Japanese beautys' nose. He swore he felt Hwoarang open to him, swore he felt the muscles ease…the primal instinct of his body knowing his lover was ready.

Hwoarangs eyes opened, amber orbs holding his lovers, claiming Jins mouth in a hot, eager kiss, shivering as he felt his beauty start to move within him, short thick thrusts. He had forgotten how easily he could become addicted to this sensation. He wanted more, Hwoarang needed more.

Jin shook violently as he felt the passage of Hwoarangs corridor ease. The knowledge of what he was doing..what they were doing..making him see through a blood haze of desire. There was urgency, the tightening knot…and this echoed in the arch of his hips. It was almost too good to take, too hot to feel.

"Your mine…Jin-kun…mine…" Hwoarang groaned thickly, arching now to meet the thrusts that were growing in intensity. One hand slid between two frictioning bodies, grasping the pleading, leaking crown and thumbing it cruelly with coned fingers.

"I am yours…but at this..moment…Ahh God, at this moment, you are mine." Jin groaned in a primal hiss, thrusting harder than he had before, feeling every clench and spasm of his lovers walls around him. He needed to get deeper, needed to break Hwoarangs body against him till he felt his crown hit solid wall..

The Blood Talon screamed in pure bliss as Jins tip inadvertently hit against his pleasure nub, white hot flashes of light screeching behind closed eyes. His lovers words were hot, bordering on lewd, feral need…it was too much to take, too much to keep in and the Blood Talon thrust up to receive Jins body…his core a holy sepulcher to house perfection…stroking himself to the rhythm his lovers desire set. This was too fucking good…

Jin shivered hard, intoxicated with Hwoarangs body, his scent, the feel of his lovers knuckles brushing his torso with every stroke the Blood Talon gave himself. His thrusts came swifter as though his body was moved by a force outside of himself, a puppet enslaved to the strings of his primal instinct. "I cant..stop…Its…starting…"

The Blood Talon groaned, thrusting himself hard in counter rhythm to Jins movement, addicted, needing… "Don't stop…baby…God damn, don't stop…" He shivered, stroking himself harder, faster against rigid flesh.

Jin felt his body stiffen, head dropping low till his lips were a breath from the Blood Talons. The sensations were overriding him…Hwoarangs body receiving him, tightening and squeezing around him. With a hiss of thick, heavy breath, Jins eyes opened sharply, meeting his lovers gaze..his chest blackening and unseen in ancient markings. "Hwoa-kun…" _I'm falling into you…_

The Japanese beauty shook violently, his body seizing, his ancestral curse leaping forward, charring his lovers flesh. The heavy knot in his gut unwound itself in a sharp, brilliant flash of Fatal Lightning…heavy ribbons of slick pumping with all its might deep into Hwoarangs milking core.

The Blood Talon shivered, his entrance filled with sudden, hot lava, burning him with such perfect heat…he could not keep himself from the edge…could not hold back…seed splashing through his fingers, ebbing along Jins grinding torso. Hwoarang swore he could not breath, swore the life had been thrust straight out of him.

Jin was as still as stone as he rode the aftershocks, mouth leaning down to claim his lovers with such intense tenderness, such pure sacred devotion. _I am…overcome with you….Hwoarang…I am falling for you…_

The Blood Talons fingers slid agains the shallow burns along his torso, tasting the flesh that moments ago had ridden hard against Jins body. There was no purity left in his Japanese beauty, not now when Jin had tasted flesh…had taken heavy draughts of sin and pleasure…learned what it was…to need.

Hwoarang studied his former rivals face, the two laying on their sides, facing each other, the heavy soft breath of sleep echoing from Jins lips. The Blood Talon, too, had been tired but he was not going to miss a moment of his lover, not when time would become their enemy.

Jin was the most beautiful sight the Blood Talon had ever seen. That beauty was never lost on him, not even that first time Hwoarang hustled Jin to a fight on the streets of Korea, Heihachis money riding the line. Jin was built solid, the Blood Talon sized him up instinctively the first time he saw the Japanese youth. Solid normally meant slow. Coupled with Jins quiet, reserved nature, the Blood Talon believed Jin may never have truly defended himself in his life. That was the first time Hwoarang was deceived by his own deductive reasoning.

Kazama Jin had taken his time to remove his jacket and watch, loosening the collar of his button down shirt. He took great care to loosen his slacks by drawing them slightly upward, letting the fine material bunch at the hips to give him freedom and flexibility. The Blood Talon had scratched at the back of his neck, jeering insults and snipes to goad the Japanese youth into anger. But Jin remained calm, Zen, as he shuffled his feet in expensive Italian leather loafers. Hwoarang and his street thugs could have eaten for a month from the price of those damn shoes.

The Blood Talon feigned his abilities, wanting to lure Jin into the usual trap, letting him land a few lucky grazing punches, sloppily blocking kicks. The bait had to be taken so Hwoarang could work his skill up, see if more money would be put on the line. Heihachi wasn't biting and for that matter, neither was Jin. And before too long, the hustle turned ugly and Hwoarang was forced to buck up the level of his ability quickly. Jin countered with equal fury, rising to the Blood Talons skill, challenging the Korean youth as much as he had been challenged. Both fighters bled and bruised in tandem.

After nearly an hour, a record in Hwoarangs book, neither could continue, neither could get in enough blows to end this thing. They were exhausted and the fight was called to a close, that handsome wad of cash withdrawn with a cool snicker from Heihachis lips and a chiding look cast to his own grandson. Jin wobbled away, brushing blood from his nose and split lip, his eye swollen and blackening, his shoulders and hips bruised at the bone, his ankle sprained and blood seeping down from his knees beneath the expensive slacks.

Hwoarang had not faired any better. His face was battered, bruised and swollen, his knee twisted, barely able to bear weight. Cuts and bruises lined his shoulders, neck and arms, his hips suffering bone bruises, torso convulsing to heal the cracked ribs he knew he had. The Blood Talon was sure he had fractured the arch of his foot. It was a pathetic and pitiable sight, both youths limping and grimacing in pain, gathered into the arms of their respective brokers for support.

That had been over a year ago. The Blood Talon had been out of hustling for a week to heal himself up as much as he could. But before he knew it, he was back in the streets, taped up and winded, but hungry for cash.

Hwoarang had played that event over and over again in his mind, recalling every detail, feeling his anger grow and shift to blood lust for the one who had fought him to a draw. Every night for a year, Jins face haunted him, lulled him to sleep, woke him up in the morning. Kazamas essence remained behind with the Blood Talon like an angel on his shoulder before every street brawl from then on. It became an obsession to the Korean, spurring his competitive, controlling nature to an all time high.

Hwoarang was dangerous, a loose cannon, unleashing a level of sadism and masochism in him that threatened to spiral out of control. He could not rest, knowing someone out there could kick his ass. To the Blood Talon, a draw was as good as a loss and he was not having that haunt his thoughts for eternity. He pushed his body, honed his skills, the Koreans street bait felt that angst in every fight. Hwoarang became a money making, injury giving, unstoppable machine.

Do San never agreed with this life of Hwoarangs, had done all he could to keep the youth from becoming another street rat with no way out, no hope in life the moment the body failed to deliver. Hwoarang was always just one broken neck away from the end of things. Do San had wanted better and like a guardian angel strove to drive some sense into the Blood Talons thick head. There was dedication in his student, there was the air of perfection that resonated in equal waves with arrogance. If that could be channeled, strengthened like molten metal tempered into a sword, Hwoarang would discover he had no limits to what he could accomplish. Do San swore he was getting that through to his student until the strings between them unwound, one at a time.

Baek had been teaching his student Japanese, making the youth nearly fluent. They had begun lessons in English as well where Hwoarang had more difficulty than he wanted to admit. The language was broken when he spoke it though he had gotten better over time. It was the reading comprehension that made the Blood Talon feel inferior and after the battle with Jin, anything that threatened Hwoarangs strive for perfection was quickly discarded.

The Blood Talon had taken a continually active role in the Dojang, recruiting new students, most were initiates to his street soldiers. He kept them in line with silent threats. Do San was too good of a man, too pure of heart to be treated like shit. Baek fed them, taught them the art, kept them busy doing repairs and routine maintenance to the sacred space of the Dojang but he could not pay them and they had to make their money somewhere. That somewhere was always the streets.

Baek Do San had pulled Hwoarang aside one particular afternoon, taking the youth away from his routine, instantly receiving the arrogant backlash. The Blood Talon would never admit it, but he was in love with routine. It was comfortable, gave him structure, made him believe there was a purpose to things he could not control. But that day, Baek had been speaking to him about taking the exams required to complete his high school education, that there had been some leads on funding for University where the Blood Talon could shine, could make something of himself instead of preying on the streets, corrupting their homeland like parasites. Hwoarang rolled his eyes, brushing off the conversation, opting for a smoke just outside of the dojang. Baek had followed him and kept up on Hwoarang, trying to get him to see his point of view. The strings had unwound too far, words became heated and silver like the serrated edge of a knife.

The Blood Talon left that night and did not return to the Dojang for nearly a month. It had taken him that long to cool down and realize Baek did have some points, did have some of Hwoarangs best interest in mind. He was willing to give it a shot. Willing to come back to Do San and hear him out, maybe even apologize. But when The Blood Talon came to the Dojang…there was little more than a bare frame of building to greet him.

During this altering event in Hwoarangs life, Baek Do San had gone missing, presumed dead. Strange rumors of a demon from the ancient scriptures were spoken of in whispers on the streets by the senile and most traditional of Korean Elders the Blood Talon came in contact with. He and his gang had searched high and low, sent out word through their connections about Do San and the destruction of the Dojang but never heard anything back.

Hwoarang camped out at the Dojang, keeping vigil for Do San to return. He blamed himself. If he had been there, whatever it was that tore the sacred space apart…that was rumored in the hand of Do Sans fate might not have gotten to him.

Then fate stepped in at the lowest point in Hwoarangs life. Fate was a courier from Japan with a signed letter for Baek Do San. The Blood Talon had accepted it, signed Do Sans name to it and read it. The invitation to the King of Iron Fist Tournament 3 held by Kazama Jin, backed financially by the Mishima Zaibatsu. It was signed and cosigned by Jin and Mishima Heihachi.

The Blood Talon stuffed the invite into his pocket and hit the streets to make the cash he needed to get him to Japan. Serious money was on the line for winning this thing. Couple that fact with his chance to catch up with Kazama Jin for a rematch and Hwoarang suddenly found fate turning a smile on his fiery soul.

"What are you thinking about?" Jin asked, his eyes closed, body still as the two rested, facing each other. Hwoarangs breath was coming sharper from his lips, rousing the light sleep the Japanese youth found himself nestled within.

The Blood Talon shifted his eyes to Jins, watching as his lover slowly parted those deep chocolate orbs. He had been lost in memory, wandering between worlds. "Nothing really, Jin-kun. I thought you were sleeping?"

Jin smiled softly. He knew Hwoarang was guarding himself from the intrusive question. "We don't have much left of the afternoon…I didn't want to fall asleep anyway, not when I don't know when I can see you again."

"I know. This sucks." Hwoarang shifted to the side of the bed, grasping up the denim jeans Jin had so skillfully removed from his body earlier. He slid them on, running his fingers through his coppery mane.

Jin sat up, his fingers reaching to trace along his lovers back, noticing for the first time how scarred the skin was there. The Japanese youth winced as he let his fingertips trace the old wounds, his heart sinking with the reality of Hwoarangs difficult life. He wanted to wipe it all away, wanted to make the skin smooth with his touch. "Yes, it does, Hwoa-kun…but we will find a way. Somehow."

Hwoarang smiled softly to himself. Jin had faith. So, he forced himself to pretend he did as well. Reality was a bitch. "Yeah, we will." He turned softly, his knees braced to the mattress as he leaned in to taste Jins mouth…thirsty for the elixir that calmed his soul, filled his heart with peace.

Jin met the heat of the kiss, his fingers entwining with Hwoarangs, letting himself fall back onto the bed, his lover sliding atop him. This was bliss, cold mountain water raging over a wild fire. The Blood Talon bolted upward, suddenly, looking over his shoulder.

"Shit. They're back." Hwoarang groaned, amber eyes turning to Jin. He thought he had heard voices a moment ago, but dismissed it, lost as he was in his own thoughts of the lovers' diminishing afternoon.

Jins eyes widened as Hwoarang slid off of him, grasping his shirt and sliding it on, tossing Jins clothes up onto the bed. "What are we going to do?" Kazama asked in a panic, sliding his clothing on with record speed as the Blood Talon tossed a flurry of shoes in his direction. He slid on his loafers, brushing his fingers through his hair.

"If we want to get out of this, we are going to have to have to fight." The Blood Talon said with a hiss, cursing himself once more for being caught off guard. He had no where to hide Jin and he could not get caught with his rival in bed. He could not get caught with any man, even his beauty…in his bed. It would be the end of things if his street soldiers believed **buru-bo-i **or "fag" was leading the gang.

Hwoarang pushed his rival out onto the sidewalk, scattering Han and Saatchi as they paused on the corner, smoking a cigarette. This was not what the Blood Talon wanted to do, but what he had to do…he had no intentions of the rematch going this way.

Jin fell back, catching his footing in stance, waiting for Hwoarang to rush at him, like he had said he would. The Blood Talon did not let him down.

"What's the matter, Kazama, tired already?" He hissed, rushing in with a step behind side kick which Jin easily blocked. "You came looking for a fucking fight, don't back up on me now." Hwoarang smiled as Jin blocked, spinning around with a rusty knife hand.

Jin captured the Blood Talons hand, drawing him in against his muscular frame for a reverse throw. Hwoarang landed on his feet just to the side of Jin. "Is that all you have? You have to be fucking kidding me."

"I told you…I am not here to start trouble…I came to find you…to tell you about the roster…its going to be..posted.." Jin stumbled to find his words. Lies did not become him and he was horrible at it.

"Too late now, Kazama. We got ourselves a match right here." Hwoarang hissed, that competitive edge creeping up in his voice. He fell into right flamingo, his leg shooting outward with a series of fast kicks, only some of which Jin was prepared to counter.

The Blood Talons foot caught him on the side, sending a hissed breath outward as he grasped the offending ankle, swinging for the next flurry and forced the Blood Talon to flip over, landing on his hands in push up position.

Han and Saatchi rushed over to Hwoarang, having never seen their fearless leader so exhausted. "Get the fuck off of me!" The Blood Talon cursed, coming to a stand, brushing his legs off, staring at Jin with deadly intent. Competition was outweighing desire and he felt it.

Jin felt it too, turning. "We will finish this at the Tournament."

As Kazama began to walk away, Hwoarang was already rushing toward him. He sidestepped as the Blood Talon skid to a stop, his face flushed, eyes intent. "We finish it now!"

With that, Hwoarang came in for the roll and choke, sweeping Jins legs from under him, smashing his lover to the ground. The move was carefully planted, even in the Blood Talons heated state of mind…hands coming around Jins throat as he leaned down in a whisper cloaked as a spirit shout. "Subway, first stop."

Jin thrust Hwoarang off of him, his hand raising to rub the pressure that a moment ago had nearly constricted his breathing. He stumbled off, letting Hwoarang appear to be the victor in the planned match, walking up to the East Shinjuku station as the Blood Talon was greeted by praise from his soldiers.

"I thought I recognized that guy. Cant forget a Jap that built." Saatchi said with a smile as Hwoarang brushed off his jeans. He was there at the Blood Talons side a year ago when the challenge went down and the hustle went wrong. If this was the rematch, the street leader was losing his fire.

"You let him off easy." Han said with a shake of his head. "Not like you at all, man. You losing your edge? We have a lot riding on you making this money in the tournament." His words echoed Saatchis thoughts with startling accuracy.

The Blood Talons eyes widened and then narrowed, snapping him back to reality. He had been distracted, trying to figure out which would be the best way to get out of there and meet Jin at the first top of the train. "Who the fuck do you think you are, all of a sudden, Han?" Hwoarang hissed, stepping up into his soldiers face.

Han glared, keeping Hwoarangs stormy gaze for that moment, long enough to show the fire of ambition in his eyes. Han backed down, shaking his head. His words were puppetry, cold and without meaning. "Sorry, man. Hey, everyone has off days, even the Blood Talon, right?"

"Watch your step, Han. Watch it real close." Hwoarang hissed, removing his keys from his pocket. "And don't think to ever fucking challenge me again. You hear me?" The Blood Talons words were deadly venom and Han paled ever so slightly.

"Yeah." Han said. He knew what Hwoarang was capable of and now that it was put out there, now that the Blood Talon had seen his ambition, Han knew he was going to be under the zero tolerance plan. He couldn't take on Hwoarang, not yet…not without more training…more backing.

The Korean youth ran his fingers through his hair, eyes remaining narrowed as he walked away, straddling his bike without a second look back….burning rubber as he peeled out onto the roadway, hell bent to find Jin.

Saatchi shook his head softly as he regarded Han. "Man you must be crazy."

Han half cocked an arrogant grin, not unlike Hwoarangs own. "If I am so crazy, wanna tell me why there were Japanese library books strapped to the back of Hwoarangs bike? Since when does the Blood Talon, read?"


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter Eight: A Change in Temperature (Can Ruin the Sword)…

Jin ran his fingers through his obsidian mane, the dull pain of Hwoarangs kicks still lingering on his skin, deep in the muscle tissue. What began as a simple cover up had nearly turned into that rematch the Blood Talon so desperately wanted. It was like something inside of the Korean had snapped the moment blows were exchanged and Jin, though admiring and respecting Hwoarangs skill, did not like this side of his lover.

Kazama Jin stepped off the platform at the first train stop. He was not sure where he was, not being familiar with this district..or anything, for that matter, outside of Uptown Tokyo. Jin was just as much a stranger here as the Korean youth.

Looking around from the top of the platform, he saw no sign of Hwoarang. Cautiously, Jin exited the station, coming to stand on the street outside of the leadway. Time was ticking down for them both and the change in their demeanors did not bode well for either of them. "Where the hell are you?" Jin asked aloud, scanning continually onto the street, waiting to hear the unmistakable sound of the Blood Talons Harley.

The Blood Talon spotted Jin as he rode up the street, barred from further motion by a red light. With a hiss, Hwoarang sped through the lined up cars, cutting off oncoming traffic only to whirl out to a dead stop before Jin. "Get on." He said, flashing a charming smile that unnerved Jin and contradicted the coolness of Hwoarangs vibe.

"You drive like your crazy." The Japanese shook his head, straddling the bike behind Hwoarang, hands resting comfortably at the Blood Talons waist.

"When it comes to you, I do whatever I have to." Hwoarang nearly purred but the edge was still in his voice.

Jin said nothing else as the bike whirled out, speeding into traffic. He closed his eyes on more than one occasion, his fingers going bloodless as they gripped Hwoarang tighter, praying this was not where he was going to meet his end.

There was a coldness that crept between them and it was more than the wind through two pressed bodies. It was radiating from the Blood Talon and Jin hoped it was just the adrenaline that needed to work its way out of Hwoarangs system.

The scenery was flying fast past Jins eyes, the landscape changing from the Downtown to Uptown Tokyo. The bike was slowing and the Japanese youth could feel the blood returning to his grip again. "We don't have much time." He said against the wind, wanting his words to swallow in the breeze the ride created.

"I know." Hwoarang replied with a slight tilt of his head, back toward Jins direction. "Almost there."

Jin was familiar now with the paths they rode, Uptown Tokyo much more comfortable to him than any other place beside his home in Yakushima. Navigating wilderness and mountains were significantly easier than the urban jungle for him and at times, Jin still missed the simple life of isolation.

Hwoarang steered onto a bike trail in one of the smaller, lesser used Uptown parks. Of course, the trails were meant for bicycles, but the Blood Talon would not be thwarted. Traffic on the main roads were getting heavy, it was close to 5pm and any second now, the urban jungle would be bumper to bumper. They had some time and Hwoarang wanted to be sure they made the most of it.

Jins feet hit the ground, sliding from the back of the bike to stretch his legs. His body had gone through a good deal of trauma in the past few days, using muscles he never had known existed. He took a moment to listen to the trees, wind through the leaves, easing tensions that had risen like bile in the back of his throat. "What happened back there?"

The Blood Talon sparked a cigarette to life, leaning back on his bike, letting his muscles unclench. "What do you mean?" He was being coy and he knew it.

"You landed some pretty good kicks, they didn't feel like you were fooling around." Jin said, his hand rubbing beneath his rib cage without realizing it.

"Since when cant you take a few kicks? How did you fight me to a draw a year ago if a few brushes have you bitching at me now?" That edge was back in his voice again, it was thicker now and Hwoarang knew it, he just couldn't control it.

"That has nothing to do with this, Hwoarang." Jin said with an exasperated sigh. "That was a year ago. I know we had to cover our tracks today, I know we have to keep this…relationship..a secret..but you were getting that look in your eyes. I remember that look, very well." _It was a look of determination, destruction. You wanted a full round of it, didn't you? You wanted to settle yourself, get your vengeance and take me like a trophy back to your bed._

The Blood Talon snorted, smoke billowing from hard pressed lips. "Relationship? What are you my boyfriend now?"

Jins eyes widened, his jaw setting itself, hardening. "Where is this coming from, Hwoarang?" He said with matching conviction. The Koreans words, the way he said them made Jin want to shiver. _Is that what this is? You cant have me one way, so you will have me another? _

The Blood Talon rolled his eyes. "What the fuck do you mean?" He said flippantly, rife with the arrogance he was famous for.

"Don't play games with me." Jin said, flatly. "Everything was fine until the moment you hit a stance. Your acting the same way now, that you did that night in the alley…the same way you did when I saw you again at the Kick off for the Tournament."

"Maybe I have some angst about those days, some things I need to work off." Hwoarang said, dragging off his cigarette, regarding Jin with deadly amber eyes. "You fucking fought me to a draw, Kazama…no one has ever come that close to beating me. I pride myself on it, I make a living on it. And that is something no one fucks with, not even you."

Jin blanched, crossing his arms over his chest. "Why cant you just let it go? Why cant you just let the past be the past? You weren't the only one at that brawl, I walked away with a draw too, my first and only." Anger was rising in his voice, anger as the last act of emotional desperation.

"Do you know how hard I had to push myself to make money after word leaked out that I had gone soft?" Hwoarang said with a hiss, tossing the burnt out end of his cigarette to the ground. Jin responded by stepping on it, keeping the embers from smoking and potentially starting a fire. That was the Blood Talons last straw. "You go home to a fucking estate, you don't have to think about living hand to mouth."

"You want to have a go now, Hwoarang? Is that what this is about? You want your vindication? Come on, lets do this…one time and never again." Jin was out of his own mind, this wasn't what he wanted. His back was starting to quiver, above each shoulder blade, a warm, tearing sensation. It felt like something was trying to get through his skin and it hurt. He had to gain control of himself…

"Don't tempt me, Kazama." Hwoarang hissed, his eyes glaring.

Jin forced himself to tear his gaze away from the Blood Talon. The intensity was rising, the anger was clear and concise. Within his core, Jin felt his heart tearing. Was this all he was to Hwoarang? A conquest? Something that had to be beaten in every way, submissive in all things before the mighty Blood Talon? What happened to the Hwoa-kun he was falling…_no, don't think it. Don't even begin to think it._

"So that's what I am to you, after everything else? A notch on your bed post, a trophy and a rival?" Jin said calmly, chaining his anger to the anchor of his breaking heart.

Hwoarang saw that look in Jins eyes, the flash of emotion in those sable depths. He rose from the bike and strode toward the Japanese beauty, hands in his pockets. _What a fucking asshole I must look like to him._ The anger was still there, the taste of competition the Korean was more than willing to dive head long into. But not when Jin looked at him that way. Not when Jin felt like this.

"No, baby. That is not what you are to me…" Hwoarang said, trying to edge out the anger in his voice with a softer tone. It was hard for him to keep his emotions under control in normal circumstances, but Jin was so many things to him…and keeping those emotions under wraps was a lot harder when he was involved. "…Your not a trophy, not a notch in my belt either. I get alittle crazy sometimes. I hated you for so long, dreamed of the day we would finally head up against each other…and its changed so fast. Rivals to friends, friends to lovers. I harbored this shit for a year and its all changed in a couple of weeks."

Jin looked to Hwoarang, seeing a flicker of light in the Korean youths eyes. The wound had been opened, the temperature changed. He did not like the way Hwoarang could make him feel this way, hot and cold with just a word, a look. "Alright." He said softly.

Hwoarang slid his hands from his pockets, letting them taste up along Jins arms, covered by the heavy sweater. "I am your boyfriend, Jin-kun…I am whatever you want to call me, as long as it's a part of you." The Blood Talons fingers slid up to taste the curve of his lovers jaw. "Alright, baby?" He asked in a voice as soft as velvet, leaning closer till his lips were a breath from Jins.

Jin exhaled softly, his eyes holding Hwoarangs amber gaze, tasting the heat of the Korean youths breath against his mouth. "Alright, Hwoa-kun…"

Jin stepped through the doorway of the Estate, his books slung in a leather strap, gripped in his hand. He was early, by mere moments and hoped to take a shower before preparing to spar against Heihachi. When voices echoed through the main sitting room, Jin paused and drew closer to the open door. It was not like Grandfather to have company.

Ling Xiaoyu and Jinrei Wang were seated on the couch, sipping tea, in pleasant conversation with Heihachi, who smiled. A rare sight to see. "Ahh, Jin, do come in. We have been awaiting you."

Jin let the book strap slide down to the edge of the door, adjusting his sweater with a brush of his hand as he entered the traditionally decorated sitting room. Lings eyes were wide with a smile and he bowed his head softly in her direction.

"Master Wang, Ling…a pleasure to see you." Jin said in his most respectful voice. "Grandfather?" _Why where they here? _Ling, of course, was a ward of the Zaibatsu, attending the highly regarded Japanese Mishima High school under the Conglomerates benevolence. And Wang, of course, was an old friend of the family from the time of Heihachis own childhood, Jinpachis best friend. Both Ling and her grandfather were also competitors in the King of Iron Fist Tournament.

Heihachi removed his glasses, setting them down on the end table beside the leather chair he rested within. "Ling is preparing for the examination process for placement as a Senior. The test is of course, next week."

Jin furrowed his brow slightly. "But Ling is only going to be a junior next year?"

Wang smiled, his voice filled with serenity. "Yes, Jin-San, but the placement recommends she take the examination for the next grade up. She has promise and her studies are advanced."

Jin nodded softly. He liked Ling. She was like an obnoxious kid sister, pestering him constantly when they were in school together. But at the same time, it was nice to have a friend, even if her overwhelming attentions on him were in the form of a crush. "Congratulations, Ling." Jin smiled.

Heihachi noticed the bud of affection from Jin to Ling and instantly mistook it for romantic inclination. This was one area he could easily control in Jins life but if his grandson were to chose to date the girl, he would not object. She was the grandchild of Jinrei. Someone whom kept fondness in Heihachis cold heart from the time of his childhood. "I would like to ask you to study with her since you have already gone through that examination and your remaining time at School is merely transition till you are accepted at Polytech."

Jin looked concerned. "With school, training and the tournament as well as the preparation for my thesis and test taking, I will have little time grandfather." There was only a true week left of school, no real classes that Jin was in dire need to attend. His attendance was perfect but the test taking was required. _And Hwoarang…lets not forget Hwoarang._

"You will make time." Heihachi said, that familiar look in his eyes telling Jin this discussion was over and decided. Heihachi had cleverly planned the Tournament over the course of 6 weeks, giving intermittent breaks during the rounds for fighters to heal…and his forces to track Toshin. He was getting closer, or so the reports came back. The Quarterfinals would begin the day after tomorrow then to the Semi and Finals. If Toshin would not come to them, the Elder Mishima was prepared to move the King of Iron Fist to Mexico…

"Of course, grandfather." Jin said, nodding his head. "Will we be training today?"

"We will train after dinner and then again at mornings first light. I would ask you now to take Ling with you to the study and begin preparing her." Heihachi nodded, the conversation done.

Ling rose, setting down her tea cup, placing a soft kiss on her grandfathers cheek. Crossing the distance to Jin, Ling slid her hand in his and allowed him to lead to the study, though she could have easily found it herself.

Wang and Heihachi continued to speak as their grandchildren left the room, eagerly discussing Lings plans for the future and the honor she would bring to her family in China.

Jin kept hold on Lings hand, not comfortable doing so but refusing to break the hold she created until they reached the study, closing the door behind them. The Japanese youth turned, one brow arched. "What was that….?"

Ling covered Jins lips with her own, one leg raising from the ground like an actress to an old American movie. The Japanese youths hands flew up, bracing at Xiaoyu shoulders to push the over zealous girl away. "What was that for?"

The Chinese beauty smiled, blushing as she tasted her lips. "Because, I like you. Haven't you ever been kissed by a girl before?" Ling studied Jins face, scrutinizing his guarded expressions. Why did she get the feeling Jin hadn't been advanced upon before? "Hey, why did you run out of the club like that the other night..and why do you taste like cigarette smoke. You don't smoke do you?"

Jin rolled his eyes, taking a deep breath. "Don't ever kiss me again, your like…a kid sister or something."

"I am only 3 years younger than you are! Kid sister. Hmmph!" Ling said with a turn of her back, her pig tails swinging wildly as her dark eyes hardened. Looking over her shoulder, her lips pursed. "You still haven't answered my questions, Jin! Unless, of course, you want me to tell Mishima-san I saw you at the club the other night."

Black mail. Who knew someone as seemingly sweet as Ling could employ black mail? Jin walked away from the door, wiping his lips of Lings kiss, though it was not completely unpleasant. Her mouth tasted like sugary fruit and Jin realized it was from the gloss she used on her lips. "Ling, lets not make this a big deal, alright. I like you, I do…just not like..you know, that." He said with a fluster, not wanting to hurt her feelings.

Ling followed Jin, plopping down on the couch of the study as the Japanese youth looked through the vast books, pulling out some by the binding that might apply. He had used them last year for his own testing. Meanwhile, Ling waited with a tap of her foot on the floor for the rest of Jins answers.

Kazama turned around, books resting against his slacks. He saw Lings eyes, narrowed and unyielding. What was it about Jin that drew only the feistiest of people to his side? "I had too much to drink, I felt sick so I left out of the club fast."

"And? Do you have a girlfriend or something? I never see you with anyone at school. I never see you with anyone but that one time with Hwoarang." Ling said in her usual jovial manner, how much energy she possessed could only be measured as boundless. The moment Ling said that name, Jins eyes shot up. He could not help it. "I…I just don't go out much. Lets get studying okay?" The Japanese youth tried to distract himself, opening the book on his lap and scanning the index.

"Jin Kazama!" Lings eyes went wide. Why didn't she see it before? Jin never had a girlfriend, never had much of a social life…he refused her advance and he tasted like cigarette smoke. She lowered her voice, fingers coming before her lips. "Your going out with Hwoarang!"

Jins flushed deep red, instantly, closing the book he had opened and coming to a stand, hand rushing into his hair. "I don't know what your talking about!" He was a horrible liar. "All this because I was surprised at your kiss…I really don't know why you would think that, I am not…gay." He began to pace.

Ling rose. "Alright, if your not..you know..gay..then kiss me."

Jin looked to her with a sigh. "Ling…"

The Chinese beauty folded her hands behind her back, leaning in toward Jin. "What's the matter, afraid? Just do it."

Jin took a deep breath in, his hand coming to rest on her narrow waist. She was shorter than he and much more fragile in the body than what he was slowly becoming accustomed to. Closing his eyes, Jin leaned down, taking Lings lips in a slow almost sensual kiss. He felt nothing, no spark of excitement, no heat…nothing. She was not his Hwoarang.

Ling leaned back with a smile. "You are sooo dating Hwoarang. Oh my god!" Her voice was a giggle.

Grasping Jins hand, Ling drew him down to the ground, shielded by the fort of leather couch. On her knees, Xiaoyu continued to giggle, watching Jin try to get comfortable, his knees drawing up to his muscular chest. "So, what's it like…come on, don't clam up on me. You can trust me…I mean, I am disappointed because I like you…and you don't like me that way…but I still like you…and I guess I can be like a kid sister or at least a best gal friend!" She could ramble a mile a minute. "Oh my god, Julia is going to freak! She soo has the hots for that Korean boy!" Lings words were perfectly placed. She knew what she was doing.

Jin let his head hit back against the leather couch, his eyes shutting tight. The secret was blown. "No! You cant tell Julia, you cant tell anyone!" He startled with instant alarm.

"Haha, got ya to admit it!" Ling squealed with joy. "Okay, Okay, seriously…I wasn't going to tell anyone, not even Julia. So, come on, spill the rice! What is he like? God, if I could tell you how many nights Julia and I have stayed awake talking the most dirty talk about him!" Her giggle made Jin laugh, he could not help it. It felt good that someone knew now, it made it feel..real. And Jin knew he could trust Ling, she might have been hyperactive, but she meant well. Not a vicious bone in her body.

"He is…amazing."

The Blood Talon rode around for an hour after dropping Kazama off a half mile from the estate, trying to sort his head, get himself straight before returning to his temporary den. The anger in his gullet from his altercation with Jin remained but was slowly subsiding. He was not sure what had come over him, what had sparked these old feelings and memories. Could it be, he was getting just too close to Jin…

..could it be, the Blood Talon was….

No. Hwoarang didn't fall into someone like that. He avoided those kind of emotional attachments. Sure, he cared about Jin, was consumed and obsessed with the Japanese beauty. Yeah, Hwoarang even felt the pang of depression when Kazama wasn't around, wishing he could do even the most simple things with him. But no, Hwoarang just didn't fall in love.

If the Blood Talon kept telling himself that enough, he just might believe it.

Hwoarang drew his bike to a stop, locking down the kick stand before his latest digs, a run down little bar in the middle of the East Shinjuku district. What could be better than having a beer and getting off a game of pool? The Blood Talon knew how to answer that question…with luck, his spurs digging into a lures' throat and a wad of cash in his hand.

With coppery mane sliding down along his eyes, Hwoarang grabbed a long neck bottle, throwing some cash to start a tab. With a thick swig, he drew over to the pool table, putting his money down to take the table next. It wasn't a long wait, just long enough to get himself another beer…and scope out one rowdy, half drunken Japanese male standing with his friends.

The Blood Talon kept a wary eye over his thumb as he lined up his shot. He sank the next in succession for his game of solo 9 ball, watching the way the cue skittered close to the edge before bouncing off the side.

The young Japanese male the Blood Talon had eyed down earlier came up on the pool table, grabbing the cue ball in the middle of its rebound rotation. Could Hwoarang pick 'em or what? He could smell trouble like a fly could smell out shit. This one was looking feisty.

"You mind?" Hwoarang said, straightening up, the pool cue pressing into the ground like a cane. Always good to have alittle something extra, just incase the hustle becomes a jump scenario.

"I mind Koreans hanging out here." The Japanese spit, looking the Blood Talon up and down again, tossing the cue ball up in the air and catching it, sloppily. "Especially Korean fags."

Hwoarang pursed his lips, eyes narrowing. This wasn't going to be a hustle, not if this line of speech kept up. "Watch your fucking mouth."

The Japanese blew a kiss to Hwoarang. The Blood Talon could taste the liquor from where he was standing. A quick glance to the side proved his initial thoughts to be true, two of this guys friends were coming up the side. To his right.

"Seen you around here, motoring with your boyfriend. We don't take kindly to Korean fags." The lead on this attack sputtered, a smile gleaming over his features.

"You already said that." Hwoarang challenged. The rest came in slow motion.

The cue ball was set free from the hand of the lead Japanese. Hwoarang swore he could see the spin of it as he balanced into a left flamingo, the heel of his boot connecting with the whirling cue, kicking it off with an amazingly agile display of reflexes. The two who were flanking from the right had not bothered to turn around at that feat, rushing in as the Blood Talon whirled around in a Hurricane, sending one flying back into the other.

The lead came around the table then, one of the other assailants was up as well and this time Hwoarang heard the crack of beer bottles. _Great, drunks and homemade weapons._ Just what the Blood Talon needed.


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9: (A Change in Temperature can Ruin the Sword)…and the Sword Maker

Jin waited by the double doors for Ling to come bounding out. Last night, the Chinese youth had made Kazama swear he would have lunch with her today in the Courtyard. There was no doubts she wanted to discuss more of Jins revelations to her and in truth, the Japanese youth did not mind.

"Jin! Jin!" Xiaoyu cried out with a smile, bounding through the open double doors, one small hand instantly cradling itself in the Japanese own. Jin knew secretly, Ling was loving every second of this closeness. The pressure was off for him now, though. Yet, that did not stop the instant whispers that arose around them as Ling promenaded the normally solemn figure toward the line of trees and benches. Rumor was, Ling Xiaoyu and Jin Kazama were dating. A rumor Ling more than likely started and Jin knew it was for his and Hwoarangs protection.

Jin shook his head and smiled. It had been a long time since he had taken lunch with Ling. In truth, Jin avoided her because of the persistent affections she had for him that he just could not return. But now things had shifted, last night opened entirely new doors in their friendship and Jin trusted the Chinese youth with his darkest secret, knowing she would keep it safe, regardless of her babbling nature.

The Japanese youth sat beneath the tree, smoothing the overly tight but lightweight sweater he wore. The largest size in the school was still just a touch too snug for Jins expansive muscular frame. Producing an apple and a large bottle of water from his book bag, he slowly bit into the skin as Ling entertained him with the latest gossip, barely seeming to buzz above her food, like a humming bird. It was pleasant for a sunny warm spring afternoon. But there was a touch of glee in Jin, knowing that the time he spent at the Mishima High School was nearly done. His main objective in his classes today were called "Study hall"…where he worked ceaselessly on his thesis for Polytech. His grades were already processed at this point, straight high honors, as expected. Only a few days remained until freedom…but the Tournament would begin again this afternoon. Luckily, neither he nor Ling or even Hwoarang had anything scheduled until tomorrow.

Jin looked up when Ling stopped speaking, finding the Chinese youth standing on the bench, one hand cupped over her eyes to shield her gaze from the sun. "What are you looking for?" He asked, licking away the juice of the fruit from his lower lip.

Ling said nothing for that long second and then let loose as squeal that nearly had Jin dropping his water bottle. "Jin! He's here! Oh my god…Jin! I swear that has to be him!"

The Japanese youth felt his fingers begin to shake, his mouth going dry instantly, even though he had just taken a large swallow of water. He did not have to see over the bench to know who Ling was referring to.

"Jin! Oh my god! He is here! What are we going to do? He cant come in here!" Ling screeched, her feet stomping on the wood, bounding with nervous energy.

It was like a clarion call. Hwoarang was here and suddenly the world faded, nothing existed…nothing but his lover. Jin rose, setting down the apple and brushing off his plaid uniform slacks, his heart thrumming wildly in his chest. Dark sable eyes focused ahead of him, disregarding the cruel sunlight that burned into his gaze…he could see the shimmer of copper on chrome…dazzling like the flame of a messenger god.

Like a moth to the flame, Jin drew forward, walking past Xiaoyu toward the beacon of his desire. A ship lost in the night, called to port by flamed coppery tendrils. He moved with slow ease, barely containing the desire in his spirit…

"Jin! Hey, wait! Come back!" Ling shouted as Jin drew closer to the wrought iron school fence. "We are going to get in soo much trouble!" She bit her lip nervously, looking over her shoulder like a hunted criminal. Torn between fear of retribution and pure curiosity, Xiaoyu squealed and tore off after Jin.

Hwoarang paced before the wrought iron gate, exhaling blue tinged smoke against a viciously split lip. It had been a lucky shot from his attackers the night before. Neither of those three could ever claim to be so lucky. Two were taken away in an ambulance, the other managed to evade capture. The Blood Talon had gone to lock up overnight only to have Saatchi and Han come to collect him and the Interpol operative, Lei Wulong, also a competitor in the tournament, come to question him wondering of the relation between the bar fight and the Tournament. The two Japanese attackers had admitted everything from the hospital at that point and no charges were filed. Wulong let him go. It had been a helluva night.

The Korean turned, not only seeing…but feeling Jin approach. The glint of desire lit his amber orbs as Hwoarang drew in from the cigarette, coming to the wrought iron gate he wanted to kick down…just to get to his lover.

Jins fingers wrapped around the iron gate, cursing the metal that separated him from Hwoarang. The mark on the Blood Talons lip elicited instant concern. The area was slightly swollen and split, caked over with a thin line of dried blood "What happened to your lip?"

"Bar room brawl. Don't worry…this is the worst of it." Hwoarang purred, though his body exuded the pent up tension of a stalking jungle cat.

Jin shivered. Rage ran through him like a bolt of lightning to know someone had put hands on his Korean beauty. He tried to bite it back, he had too many hours left after lunch to lose focus now. "What..are you doing here?"

The Blood Talon watched Jin through the wrought iron gate and errant copper tendrils before his eyes. He could taste the thick draw of breath from Jins lips at the sight of him, even from the distance forced between them. "I had to see you…" The Blood Talon coed in the most seductive, predatory tone. The Korean raised his hand, touching his beautys fingers with his own. Skin to skin. "I feel like..I am going crazy..if I don't see you…touch you…"

Jin felt his spine shiver, a familiar throb rushing through his core all the way to his silent, constricted length. Hwoarangs touch overrode every responsibility, every sensation. He wanted to flee over the gate and rush onto the back of the Koreans bike, just to spend the day rolling in the ribbons of sunlight that streamed on his bed.

Hwoarang saw Xiaoyu coming and instantly removed his hand, turning his body sideways to break any further desire for contact. Narrowed eyes regarded the Chinese youth with an instant hatred. He had seen Ling walk out into the courtyard, hand in hand with Jin.

The Japanese youth could scent Lings approach. Like wildflowers and sugary fruit. He did not have to bother to turn to know she was there. And he understood in that instant why the Blood Talon had broken contact so quickly.

Ling waved to Hwoarang but was met with only a cold stare. That icy glare turned deadly the moment she braced her hand on Jins shoulder.

"Kazama, can you get out tonight? We have some business to discuss." Hwoarang said with a hiss, eyeing down that hand on Jins shoulder.

The Japanese youth did not bother to shake off Lings touch. He knew she would only persist, not to mention it was excellent cover for both he and Hwoarang, which apparently his lover had not considered. "I have to train tonight, my match against Yoshimitsu is tomorrow afternoon right after classes."

Ling bit her lip. "I can get you out of it. If you come over to my house and help me study after school and your training…we can say we need the use of the library…and disappear from there."

Jin smiled, looking to Ling now. She was more brilliant and devious than he gave her credit for. She blushed the moment their eyes contacted and looked away just as Jin turned his gaze to Hwoarang. "I will take it that is a yes, with Lings help."

"Yeah. Whatever. Club Oblivion 8pm." Hwoarang said with a turn of his back and a wave of his hand once the cigarette was tossed off. He began to walk away, seething with his possessive rage.

"Hwoarang!" Jin called out in a panic. He could not leave this way.

The Blood Talon turned his head, gazing over his shoulder. Ling was already walking away and Jin was clinging to the wrought iron high fencing as though he might scale it then and there. The panic was visible in Jins eyes as well as the ring of his voice. Hwoarang was hurt, he never had relied on anyone for anything he wanted. Never relied on anyone for that matter. Never had been so possessive and jealous of a single touch from one of Jins only friends.

The Blood Talon felt his heart shiver when he held Jins eyes. The pain at their separation, even if for a few hours, was heavy in those sable orbs. "I know, baby." He said, loud enough for Jin to hear but low enough to avoid as much detection as possible. With that, Hwoarang turned once more, lowering his goggles over his eyes, gearing up to ride off.

"You have done well." Heihachi barked, blowing out the candle he had been meditating before. Jin had, infact, done quite well in his training. Drawing the creature Toshin would not be difficult if the boys Chi remained as focused as it had been during this session. The Elder Mishima would catch his quarry and draw from the ancient one the tissue and DNA required to give him the immortality he sought.

Jin rose up, bowing before his own candle, sweat dripping from his features, making the flame sputter. "Thank you, Grandfather. I do not underestimate my opponent. Yoshimitsu is a proud and noble warrior, a leader of his people. It would dishonor him to come, unprepared."

Heihachi turned, drawing up on aching legs. It had been some time since Jin had nearly worn him out. There was fire in the young Kazama and it seemed to burn stronger as the evening progressed. "Wang Jinrei has called to tell me you will be studying with Ling tonight. Is this so?"

Jin looked up, blaming the shortness of breath for delay in response to Heihachis question. His face flushed deeper red making a parallel to the flames on his Gi pants. "My help has been enlisted for her, so yes, Oujisan, if I may?"

The Elder Mishima was nearly shocked at how respectable Jins tone was. It carried a resonance Heihachi had not heard in some weeks. "Have you completed your work on the thesis for admission to Polytech?" He asked, arms folding before his massive, bare chest.

Jin folded his arms in similar manner, the edges of his sweat drenched T shirt rising along his muscular biceps. "I have nearly completed the paper. I have time at school now that the majority of my classes are over.

Heihachis eyes caught the black marking beneath the white, sweat soaked shirt that covered Jins body. The image bled through till it was clear and concise. The Elder Mishimas brow raised ever so slightly. He had seen a marking like that before, somewhere in his readings on the subject of Demonology. _Could it be?_ "That will be suitable, Jin. I will make arrangements to have a car bring you to her residence."

Jin blinked, trying to hold his poker face. "I would prefer to take my bike, Oujisan. It has been sometime since I have been riding."

"I see." Heihachi countered. That mark was filling his thoughts, over riding nearly everything else. He had to get to the study and search through his literature. _Has the answer been staring me in the face all this time? Does Jin have Kazuyas curse? Does Jin possess the Devil Gene I have been searching for?_ "And what time will I expect you home, this evening."

"Ling and I would like to study at the library. I anticipate to be home by 11pm. Is that suitable, Grandfather?" Jin felt himself trembling. He had not lied, exactly.

Heihachi nodded. "I accept, Jin." Was all the Elder Mishima could say. "You are excused."

Jin bowed to his Grandfather and slowly padded to the door of the dojo, looking back over his shoulder. Heihachi was unusually agreeable as though something more important was at the forefront of his thoughts. "Thank you, Oujisan." He knows you realize….

Kazama Jin looked back to the door, shivering as the voice within him spoke at last…after such a long respite. Was this the voice of his conscience? _What is there to know? I have not lied to him…_

_He knows, Kazama Jin…about us…and this game is about to grow far deadlier than we could imagine…_

Jin shook his head, trying to clear his thoughts, one hand holding onto the door jamb of the dojo. The headache was instant and sharp, forcing Jin to groan ever so slightly with the tenacity of the ache, compelling the Japanese youth to nearly stumble onto the grass as he made his way back to the estate.

Heihachi raised a brow as Jin halted for that split moment before stumbling off. _This has just become a very interesting development…Jin, you now have my full attention._

Ling gave her grandfather a soft kiss on the cheek, books clutched to her chest. She said her good byes as Jin stood sentry at the door like a proper gentleman. Wang had the most interesting smile over his aged features, as though giving his blessing to two young lovers.

With a bow of his head, the Japanese youth stepped away, taking Lings books to strap on the back of his bike. There was not nearly as much room as he had on Hwoarangs, Ling would be forced to sit quite tightly against him. A fact that made him blush. "We should have a little time to study before we have to go. Is that alright with you?" Jin offered Ling a hand as she climbed in behind him, nestling her cheek to his back.

"We are soo not going to the library. I cant let you go out to the club looking like this…not to see Hwoarang anyway." Ling smiled as Jin began to turn the key in the ignition, pausing with fright.

"Oh no, we have to get some studying done. I cant be made a liar to your grandfather or mine." Jin felt suddenly quite self conscious. His spare set of riding leathers were not unfashionable, just a bit worn out. He had used them while he learned to drive the high speed racing bike and taken a few spills. Jin had repaired the leather with his horrific sewing skills. The gear was comfortable, broken in just the way the Japanese youth liked them to be.

"There is this trendy little shop uptown. Now, drive." Ling said with a giggle of pure joy.

They would discuss this further once Jin drove them to the library. There was no way he was spending any amount of time shopping…with Ling Xiaoyu.

Jin stood before the mirrors that managed to frame his entire body, walling him in on three sides. This was a ghastly experience and he could not believe Ling had convinced him to do this. She seemed to know all the right words to make the Japanese youth agree, make it seem that if he did not wear something more appropriate to the club and its atmosphere that Hwoarang might, subtly, glance an eye in another direction. That thought had never occurred to Jin and Ling made it seem a true crisis a complete imperative.

Now, Jin felt like a fool. How did he get suckered in so easily when he trusted Ling? That was why, of course, because he had TRUSTED Ling. "I can not do this." He said in a dismal voice, shaking his head at the ridiculous attire Xiaoyu and a very anxious clerk had picked out.

"Oh, its not going to kill you, Jin!" Ling shouted, exalting her point. "Those are great colors on you! And those pants, leather! He will love it, trust me." She smiled, hands flying to her hips, ready to debate this point further and break Jin down into buying them. The Japanese youth looked delicious enough to eat, if she did say so herself.

Jin shook his head, eyes rolling up to the side. He had to admit the leather pants were really nice. They were tight from the waist to the knees, not unlike his Gi but with less flexibility. He did like the way the pants belled out from the knee to the ankle, longer enough at the hem for him to walk in. For a second, Jin felt like some American rock star. "Alright. I will get the pants, but not the shirt. Green and yellow should never be allowed together in the same room." He said with dripping sarcasm and realized..in that instant he sounded…

Jins mouth shut tightly with extreme speed.

Ling had heard the comment and was giggling so hard her pig tails were shivering. "Alright. I will give that much to you. Let me see what I can find?"

Jin shook his head. "No, the sweater I was wearing beneath the riding jacket is plenty enough."

"Jin!" Ling protested, sliding a pair of trendy shades over her eyes. They were much too large for her face and made her look cute and comical all at the same time. "What if you just get a really plain T shirt?" She tore off instantly, grabbing and holding up a plain black T shirt. It had some stretch to it and would cling to Jins form nicely. "Just try it on, okay? Come on, if you wear that sweater with those pants..you might as well be Heihachi!"

Jin shuddered at that thought, looking at the plain black T shirt with a slight grimace. He preferred a more classic style, slacks and sweaters always worked, no real decision had to be made there. But perhaps a black T would not be too bad. He could always leave his riding jacket open. It was black leather with white and red Kanji on the shoulders. "Alright, bring it over here..but I am not promising anything."

Hwoarang leaned on the bar, one elbow supporting him as his free hand kept around a long neck bottle of beer. He had been drinking for nearly two hours and slowed down from the whiskey he preferred. The two tastes complimented each other.

Amber orbs remained fixed on the door, waiting for Jin to show. He knew Xiaoyu would come along, if she was Jins cover for tonight, the Japanese would have no other choice but to have her in tow.

That thought infuriated the Blood Talon. He did not like anyone tagging around what was his. Hwoarang took another long draught from his bottle, squinting as the flashing lights ebbed over his line of sight. American music played in time to the raving illumination…and the Korean could hardly believe his eyes.

Jin stood in the doorway with Ling. The Chinese youth was already swaying to the music even as she looked about for sight of the Blood Talon. Eyes connected and Xiaoyu grasped Jins arm pulling him toward his lover.

Hwoarang straightened up, drinking in the sight coming toward him. Jin was dressed hotter than an august night in Seoul, looking classy and yet edged with something dangerous. It was the leather. The Blood Talon had a fondness for that clinging, tough material…and in this case, it showed off Jins firm body with massive appeal. The Blood Talon wasn't the only one who noticed the Japanese beauty, everyone he bumped into, passed en route to Hwoarang was taking careful notice.

"Hi Hwoarang! Or is it Blood Talon? What do you like to be called?" Ling said with a smile, realizing her hand was still in Jins and dropped it, feigning innocence.

The Korean youth narrowed his eyes. He didn't know what she knew about he and Jin, but he certainly did not trust Ling. "Hwoarang. I am only the Blood Talon to my gang." He tried to muster up some kind of calm but was failing miserably. He wanted to knock the twit out of the way and grasp Jin against him. Instead, he took a thick swig of his beer, slamming the now empty bottle down on the counter, holding up two fingers and nodding toward the whiskey. "Kazama." he said coolly, even as his eyes burned.

Jin felt his stomach churn, his body tensing with anticipation. Being this close to Hwoarang, especially in public, was torment. "Hwoarang." He replied, trying to hold back the tremor in his voice. He felt so completely self conscious in his attire and swore he would strangle Ling for convincing him to buy and wear the outfit. He longed for the comfort of his riding leathers or a tailored fitting pair of slacks. Jin would not feel so out of place then.

Ling hummed to herself, looking over to the bartender. "I want something pink!" She yelled but the bartender was already taking other orders now that the two shot glasses and the bottle was in front of Hwoarang. "I will be right back!" She said with determination.

Jin nodded, taking her place next to Hwoarang at the bar, fingers riding the rim of the shot glass, now filled with familiar libations. "Are you angry with me?" He asked, leaning closer, catching the familiar scent of the Korean youth. It filled him with instant hunger, instant desire.

Hwoarang tossed back the shot, looking into Jins eyes through errant tendrils of copper before his field of vision. "You look…damn." The Korean licked his lips, avoiding Jins question for the moment. Watching how the Japanese face flushed heatedly at the praise. "No, baby..I'm not angry..I just don't like her hanging around you, hanging all over you."

Jin tossed back the shot, finding it was not as unpleasant as the first experience. "I told her…about us." He said low, licking his lips.

Hwoarang was alittle shocked at the fact Jin had said anything to her. It was more than obvious Ling had a crush on his lover. "And?"

"And that is why she got me out here tonight. She actually likes the fact that you and I are..you know, going out and stuff." It was still too new and awkward for Jin to just come out and say their status. "I really want to kiss you…" He added as Hwoarang refilled their shots. That comment drew amber orbs to Jins own sable gaze.

There was still some tension between them with yesterdays events, that little conversation they held in the park. But Hwoarang was feeling the same and this distance, this public display of civility was eating through him. "Yeah. We need to be alone." That was painfully obvious.

Ling returned, triumphant, a pink drink in a hurricane glass gripped tightly. The umbrella that had been adoring the monstrosity was slowly lifted and placed in her hair. "So, you guys want to dance, or something? I mean it's a club, right?"

Hwoarang looked over to Ling, but not before assuring both he and Jin took a third shot. "I don't dance."

"You know, that's what Jin said and I had him out there working the hips the other night. You remember right? Or where you too wrapped up in Julias gums to remember?" She said with a devious smile. "So you, you know, like guys and girls too right?"

Hwoarang cracked his neck. "That's none of your fucking business." He felt the look Jin shot him over that comment. "Um, look, I don't discuss that kind of shit."

Jin ran his hand back through his hair. Hwoarang was going to make this difficult on him and Ling was trying her best to be pure wickedness. Were they both conspiring against him? He poured himself another shot and was starting too feel that fuzzy sensation as he downed it. That was his limit for the night or he would be in no shape to drive.

Ling leaned closer to Hwoarang, her delicate hand braced at his forearm. "If you hurt him, I swear….you will wish you were dead." She smiled with pure innocence, drawing back once more and finishing that monster drink.

Hwoarang could not help but laugh. A threat coming from Xiaoyu, now that was funny shit.

"You know what, Ling, maybe we should dance." Jin said, grasping her arm and dragging her to the dance floor. It would be a great distraction from the fight he was sure would break out if Hwoarang and Ling were in the same space for a moment longer.

Jin felt her draw against him as they found a space between the thrumming bodies, somewhere off from the center of the dance floor. His hands rested gently on her hips as he began to sway against his captive. Whiskey gave him courage.

Ling giggled, her hands resting at Jins shoulders. His hips were no longer as tight, they found the rhythm easily and kept to it as she flushed, realizing just who she had to thank for that. "You know, I am only trying to be nice." She said, feeling a bit tipsy herself. She had taken down that drink like she was afraid it would be ripped from her grasp.

"Could you be alittle..less nice?" Jin asked, keeping pace with the music. It flowed through him easier now and his hands gripped Lings hips with assuredness, as he had grasped Hwoarangs the day before. He wished his lover was in Lings place before him…

Hwoarang watched the two draw up onto the dance floor, watched the sway and rhythm of Jins body against Lings and felt the heat of desire threaten to consume him. He needed Jin, alone, now..needed to hear his lover scream…and plead. The Blood Talon wanted to hear Jin..plead.

Taking another shot, Hwoarang set the glass down and wiped his lips with the back of his hand. Sliding through the crowd in that next moment, he came upon the two grinding bodies, his hands falling over Jins on Lings hips.

The Blood Talon was not much for dancing, but this was not about dancing, really. Jin looked up, feeling his hands covered over and gasped when Hwoarangs face greeted him over Xiaoyus shoulder. They could not dance together but they could dance with Ling between them.

Ling turned her head slightly to the side to see Jins lover, biting her lip as a smile drew over her features. "Now you boys play nice!" She laughed, feeling the Blood Talon draw into a rhythm with Jin, echoing his motions which remained slow and controlled. Hwoarang kept distance between his body and Lings backside and instinctively Jin gave himself more space as well, a half step back from the Chinese youths form.

"I intend to." Hwoarang licked his lips, his breath sliding past Ling to Jin. "Jin, you like it when I am nice?" He teased, watching the Japanese youths face flush.

"Yes." Jin managed with a shiver, rewetting his lips.

"How nice do you want me to be, baby?" Hwoarang purred with an edge to his voice. Ling could not help but giggle and close her eyes. The Blood Talon had a certain way of asking something like that…that even made her shiver a little bit.

"Real nice." Jin said as a shiver slid up his spine. He drew closer to Lings shoulder instinctively as the captive Chinese youth turned her head sideways, away from Jin. She could feel two thick, distinctive breathing patterns over her skin, making her blush.

Hwoarang leaned in as well, still keeping from touching Lings body, not wanting to compromise her boundaries. They were nearly lip to lip over Xiaoyus shoulder. "Maybe if you beg for it, baby…I can be real nice to you…" The Blood Talons lips ghosted over Jins.

Jin moaned and that sound made Ling quiver. It was the perfect pitch and the desire he felt was evident. She heard the brush of lips near her ear and bit her tongue to keep quiet. Even with her own dangerous flirtations, she had to admit…Jin and Hwoarang..together…were hot.

"Its time..for some alone time. Follow me." The Blood Talon pushed back, removing his hands from overtop Jins.

Kazama stepped back as Lings hands slowly slid down his chest. She swore she had never seen a more delicious sight as Jins eyes, his face, heated with lust. "Don't keep me waiting here too long." She said with a raise of her brow, wishing she could be a fly on the wall to whatever was going to happen.

"I wont." Jin said with a flush of embarrassment. Ling knew what was going to happen, he could see it in her eyes. He didn't care, not really…all he wanted..was Hwoarang.

The Japanese youth slid back from Ling, placing a soft kiss on her brow, smiling as she giggled and pushed him away. With that, he turned, catching the glint of copper hair, half way through the crowd, heading toward the bathroom..and followed.

The huge room was crowded, several patrons standing around, talking…flirting…snorting lines of fine white powder from the countertops. Their was easily a dozen stalls and the standard urinals. It was a coed lavatory.

Jin followed the copper tendrils around the first half dozen stalls to the opposite side where it was not as crowded. He lost sight of Hwoarang and how the Blood Talon evaded him, Jin could not understand.

With a sudden motion, hands grasped Jin by the shoulders, drawing him into the center stall. Instinct had Jin with his hands clasped painfully over the wrists of the assailant…until wide eyes met that heated amber gaze. Hwoarang slammed the stall closed with a side kick, pressuring Jin against the blue metal wall, covering over that muscular form with his own.

"Now where were we, baby?" The Blood Talon purred, fingers sliding down Jins face, thumbs brushing those lush lips.

"Right about..here…" Jin moaned, shivering with desire and unfulfilled need. Hwoarangs body crushed against him was as hot as the sun. He could feel the Blood Talons length straining through overly tight jeans, grinding with teasing heat against his own thickness.

"Why don't you remind me with that mouth of yours…" Hwoarang purred, his thumbs parting Jins lips, teasingly. He groaned as he felt Jins tongue slither against the tip of his thumb, slowly drawing the appendage in to the warm whet depths of that hot mouth.

"Oh, god damn…" Hwoarang hissed, watching Jins cheeks pucker in. "Been practicing for me, baby?" The suction was tight… "Not tonight Jin-kun, tonight…your mine…." The Blood Talon groaned, covering his mouth over Jins and slowly releasing the thumb his lover had captured with such hot suction. He pressed Jin deeper into the wall, hands sliding to his lovers wrists, keeping Jin tight in his hold. Hwoarang drank in Jins moans as two slick muscles battled with heat and need, feeling how the Japanese youth arched and thrusted upward as if baiting Hwoarang to do the same…and that bait worked.

The Blood Talon pressed back, panting. "Your body is telling me you want it rough, baby. Now, I want to hear it from you…how nice do you want me?"

Jin groaned, head tipped back against the wall. He felt like he could not breath, choking on his desire. "I don't want you..nice at all…Hwoa-kun…" He managed, his own words making him shiver.

The Blood Talon raised his hands from Jins wrists and without a moment of notice, backhanded his beauty hard enough to turn his head..but light enough to let him know…it wasn't a challenge…or an act of violence. He was giving his lover what he wanted. Jin knew on instinct the moment he felt the sting, moaning and nearly choking on his own breath. The black markings were etching down his chest beneath his form fitting T shirt….

Hwoarang grasped Jins hips, stepping back in the slight space to give him the strength he needed to thrust Jin against the opposite wall of the blue bathroom stall, face first. Jin caught himself with the flats of his palms, gasping as he felt the Blood Talons fingers working his leather pants open.

"I can smell you through the leather…" Hwoarang hissed, yanking the form fitting leather down, dropping to his knees as he positioned Jins hips. Without another sound, the Blood Talon spread his lover open, sliding his tongue against the guarding ring of muscle..pushing into the hot walls till he felt Jin clench around his tongue.

Jin groaned, shaking at the sensation…spreading his thighs further apart and arching his hips back to feel more of the Blood Talons exquisite mouth. "Oh…god..Hwoa-kun…" It was softer than he wanted…but he knew…even in Hwoarangs haste to give him what he needed…the Korean was giving him some preparation.

The Blood Talon groaned, lapping at the heated walls with a fury, drinking in Jins taste like wine. He wanted to be covered in that musk…he wanted to drink enough to last him the night…

Jins nails clawed against the metal, scratching into its depths with elongated nails….

The Blood Talon drew upwards, licking his lips and violently pressing Jin into the wall. His lips slid against his lovers ear, breath tainted with musk. "What do you need, baby?" he tormented with a cruelly sensual tone…his hands working open the denim of his pants.

"You..Hwoa-kun.." Jin closed his eyes, shaking, barely able to get the words out and be understood.

The Blood Talon freed himself from the restrictive denim, rubbing the crown of his length down Jins saliva slickened cleft. "How do you need me, Jin?" He hissed dangerously.

"Hard…Hwoa-kun…." Jin groaned, shivering as he felt his lovers tip slide teasingly down the cleft of his backside, poised at the tight ring of muscle. The pressure was making him dizzy with need…

"No baby…wrong answer. You know what you want…now plead for it." Hwoarang hissed, panting against Jins ear.

Jin swallowed hard, shivering. He had never pleaded in his life… "Hurt me…break me open…Hard..Hwoa-kun…please…" His voice was breaking down. The teasing was agony and he was near ready to sob if he had to wait a moment longer. "Please, Hwoa-kun…hurt me…make me feel you..."

The Blood Talon groaned. "Anything you want, baby." He liked the way Jin pleaded, it made him feel powerful, in control..dominant over his lover. Hwoarang was surprised at just how addicted Jin was to the pain as well as the pleasure. One could not be had without the other.

The Blood Talons hands came up, grasping Jins, forcing them flat against the wall. With a thick breath, Hwoarang thrust hard, to the root inside of Jins body, feeling his lovers core stretch and tighten around the sudden invasion. Jin was going to bleed tonight…

"Ohh..god…" Jin cried out, his words echoing from the bathroom back to him. He sucked in a sharp breath at the intense, sudden flash of pain, sparking the fatal lightning to writhe up his torso and along the metal stall, flickering red as blood.

"Your fucking mine..do you hear me…." Hwoarang groaned possessively, releasing the pressure and thrusting into the tight heat that enveloped him. Jin felt so good around him, squeezing him, milking him….

"Hwoa-kun…" Jin cried out, shaking as he felt the heat of thrusts in rapid fire, buried tight and deep into his core. This was the only bliss he could ever know…Hwoarang…was the world…his world.

The Blood Talon shuddered as he thrust a punishing pace, arching up to drive his length against Jins buried treasure. He knew the moment he hit him off there…he felt Jin nearly go weak… it was too much, too fucking intense. "God damn…so fucking tight…"

Hwoarang released Jins right hand, fingers entwined with his…and forced both to wrap around his lovers pleading, crying length. "Find the pace, baby…find the pace for me…"

Jins hand, entwined with Hwoarangs, tunneled around his length, stroking with a sudden fury that matched the blazing pace of the Blood Talons thrusts. The rhythm was easy to find and Jin cried out, his forehead pressuring the bathroom stall as he thrust himself into his fist…and back to receive more of Hwoarang. The weight in his soul…was freed..only when he was with Hwoarang..only when the pain and pleasure battled…the masochism and sadism dancing the fine line…

The Blood Talon hissed darkly, shaking as he continued a blinding depth and power inside of Jins core, mouth anchoring along his lovers shoulder till teeth could no longer resist biting down. It kept Hwoarang from crying out, he was already getting so damn close…

Jin shuddered, his head rolling back onto Hwoarangs shoulder, eyes shut, breath spilling over in hard gasps. It was incredible, the peace he found entwined in Hwoarang. With a groan of pure pleasure, Jin continued to counter rhythm against Hwoarangs intense ardor, shaking as he drew closer to a spiraling end…his hand working deep and thick along his length.

Hwoarang threw his head back, teeth grasping to Jins earlobe…cast crimson from the pressure of the bite he left…the copper tang of Jins blood warm and delicious on his lips. "God damn baby…you feel too good…"

Jin shivered, arching wildly, breaking his hand free from beneath the Blood Talons, bringing the appendage up to wrap around Hwoarangs neck, holding himself upright as he writhed into the intensity. "Hwoa-kun…its..starting…"

Hwoarang shuddered the spasms beginning to rip through Jin were milking him hard. He rode into it, headlong, pressuring his lovers prostate with cruel precision. "Fuck..your killing me..Jin-kun…"

Jins body tensed as waves of pleasure began to crash over him, sending him into gasping cries of near release…it was too much to hold back… The Japanese crested hard, slowing the entwined hands as he rode back into his lover, shaking as he bit down into his lip…tears rolling out of his eyes at the intensity of the release. Hot spurts of seed coated their fingers as Jin released, shaking and gasping…

Hwoarang was a pace behind Jin, falling back on the wall, dragging his lovers body with him as Jins core clenched spasmodically around him, milking him into hot ribbons of slick, pulsing deep into his beautys body. The Blood Talon swore he could not breath, there was only fire…the fire in his lungs….the blood on his lips.

Panting breaths, ragged moans…in the throng of myriad voices that filled the bathroom. Jin shuddered, resting back against Hwoarang. Tears stained his face, the agony and pleasure had over filled him. "Hwoa-kun…Hwoa-kun…I..I'm falling for you…"

Hwoarangs eyes opened when Jins words washed over him. Mouth going instantly dry, the Blood Talon bit his own lip now. He choked on what to say…choked on his words. "I know, baby…." was all he could manage….he couldn't process the words, the emotions and thoughts behind it.

Hwoarang leaned in to kiss Jins torn shoulder, gasping for breath. "You drive me wild, you know that?"

Jin opened his eyes, his body shaking but slowly returning to normal. Hwoarang had avoided his words… "Hwoarang…"

"Don't do this Jin. Its going to change everything if you do this…" With careful hands, Hwoarang slid his palms between their bodies, sliding back with a hiss till they were no longer joined. He drew his denim jeans upward, buttoning them before brushing a hand back through errant copper tendrils.

Jin slid his leather pants up, tucking the black shirt in. Turning to face Hwoarang, the tears that glistened from his eyes told the Blood Talon the emotion behind the words were true.

The Blood Talon lit up a cigarette, there in the bathroom stall, leaning back against the wall, eyes looking upward. "I like things just the way they are…you know?" Hwoarang flicked his gaze to Jin.

Jin was slowly growing angry. How could Hwoarang dismiss him so easily? He leaned back against the opposite wall, finding it a little hard to balance himself. He was already sore, he could feel it…and it felt good. "Fine. I have to get out there to Ling, you coming?"

"I already did." Hwoarang purred with an arrogant smile. He tried to make light of Jins words but failed, miserably. "Yeah, let me finish my smoke, splash some water on my face." _Bullshit. I cant face him now...because I dont fear the change...it has already _happened.

"Alright." Jin said with a sigh, opening the door inward and stepping out, sneaking around the throng of people, hoping none of them had heard the two…

Alone at last, Hwoarang only had a moment to get himself together. He couldn't do this now…he would think about this later.


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10 Tempering the Blade

Kazama Jin put a smile on his face as he approached Ling, sitting at the bar, sipping a soda. He knew he was not gone long but felt bad for leaving her alone in the club. She was not without her admirers, but that did not matter. He had done a dishonor. And he could not show her that things were just not…right. They hadn't been right..since the park, yesterday.

"Your walking awfully funny." Ling said with a giggle as a very flushed Jin drew toward her.

The Japanese youth nearly went white at her open comment, running a hand through his sweat dampened hair. "Yeah…we just had to..talk…" It was a lousy cover and he couldn't lie to save his own life. "You almost ready to go?"

"What? that's it and I didn't even get to watch!" She laughed, her comments obscene but she loved to watch Jin flinch.

Jin scratched the back of his neck. He was picking up Hwoarangs mannerisms already. "Nothing to watch…" he smiled, self consciously.

"Bullshit." Hwoarang purred, drawing up on the two, a false smile plastered on his lips. He couldn't look at Jin and Ling was a welcome distraction in that moment.

Jin turned bright red as Ling laughed. "You know, you two really…fit together. I don't know why I didn't see it before, behind all that macho stuff I have had to witness from you both. 'Oh, I want a rematch, Oh, I want to kick your ass…'" she mimicked Hwoarang horribly. "'why cant you get over it blah blah blah" she took a stab at imitating Jin.

Jin shook his head, biting the edge of his lip softly. "Yeah something like that."

"Fuck that. If I sounded that pathetic and made that horrible face, I would shoot myself." The Blood Talon countered, still lingering in the state between sex and come down…between body and emotion.

Ling finished her soda and hopped down from the bar stool. "Its after 10, we really should get moving, huh? Mishima Heihachi is expecting you at 11p?"

Jin wanted to get out of there as soon as possible. "Yeah and I have that match tomorrow after school. I have to get some sleep." _Sleep? After this?_

Hwoarang nodded. "Yeah, I am going to stick around for awhile more, don't have to be up early for any good reason." He shrugged, pouring a shot from the whiskey bottle that Ling had been keeping guard of. "Gotta take on that fat guy, the sumo…Gan'Ryu, tomorrow afternoon."

Jin nodded, keeping his eyes to the floor. "Good luck with that."

"I don't need luck. But thanks anyway, Kazama." Hwoarang cast Jin a quick side glance. Things were weird between them in this moment, uncomfortable. "Watch yourself with Yoshimitsu."

Jin nodded. "He is a great fighter, noble and honorable. I will not underestimate him, even with the respect I have for him."

Lings hands were on her hips. "I get to fight Paul Phoenix tomorrow! Ugly American! I don't hear any words of sympathy, now do I." Something was not right between these two. Where was the desire she felt before that stood between them? They were acting like two robots!

Jin smiled. "On that note, we should go. Goodnight…Hwoa-rang." Jin had to stop himself from calling him Hwoa-kun. That sentiment just didn't fit between them at the moment. Every instinct wanted to scream out to the Korean, to make a plan..a date to see each other again. But that fire was dying inside of Jin now that Hwoarang had rebuked his declarations.

"Yeah, later Ling, Kazama." The Blood Talon, not much for good byes, grasped the whiskey bottle and drew into the crowd. When Ling and Jin turned to walk away, the Blood Talon leaned against the wall, watching his lover go with forlorn eyes that could have shed tears for what was happening to them both, if Hwoarang was the crying type.

Jin sat in study, alone. His thesis was nearly completed now and only the final touches were required before submitting the paper. Kazama Jin just could not concentrate. He could not take his thoughts from Hwoarang.

Elbows braced on the library table, Jin ran his fingers through his hair, cradling his head in that moment as he breathed deeply. Three days. Three days with no word, no visit, no secret rendezvous. Jin felt like he was losing his mind.

Kazama Jin had beaten Yoshimitsu in the quarter finals. The battle had been long and it may have been endurance only that kept Jin in the lead. He thought surely the Blood Talon would come to the match but there had been no sign…and his distraction did not help him in the least during the mayhem of the tournament round.

Sometime later, Jin had heard Hwoarang had beaten Gan Ryu. He could not attend the match, it was scheduled in a completely different local from his own and Jin could not escape Mishima Heihachis guards. It was as though they knew something….were watching him for something.

Unfortunately, Ling had been eliminated by Paul Phoenix. Jin had comforted her the best he could and reassured his friend that she would use this time to study and prepare for exams. Even as crestfallen as she was in that moment, her exuberance could not be thwarted and she tried desperately to look on the bright side of things, even if the monies won from the tournament would have been significant to her less than wealthy family.

The world seemed to conspire against Jin. Every moment he trained or studied was mechanical, as though the spark had gone from his eyes without the promise of the Blood Talon near to him. And then, in the moments of quiet when the Japanese youth lay in slumber…and then, came the dreams.

Each time it was the forest he had run to in that scape, sometimes in the center of the wooded sanctuary there was a chasm from which he climbed, broken hands grasping dirt trying with his might to pull himself over, lured by the promise of his mothers voice…and then the screams of her agony at the hands of Toshin. The Aztec God of Fighting took Kazama Juns life, over and over again until Jin would awake screaming, his hands balled into fists to the apparition of his subconscious…his sheets charred with remnants of Fatal Lightning.

Jin remembered that nigh of his mothers death as though no other existed before it….the night he could not save his her, was too weak, too young…the night she fought like a lioness defending her cub pleading on the wind for Jin to run away….

And in these dreams another familiar voice filled him, offering an incorporeal hand to Jin, soothing and calming his body with promises of victory over the Ogre….

Jin did not take that hand, he woke before his fingers could reach for it each night…

…until last night.

The voice had taken form, a brilliant image enshrouded by crimson light…the form of the Blood Talon with enthralling, glowing copper eyes. It had deceived him, bound itself to him in the dream and Jin saw for the first time the voice had a purpose…the voice knew his weaknesses and his strengths. Just as Hwoarang had known his weaknesses and strengths…

Dripping with sweat, the Japanese youth awoke screaming, clutching the bed sheets in his fists. Burning sensations tore beneath his flesh as though something was moving within him and the eerie feeling overcame Kazama Jin…that he was no longer alone.

Shaking his head, Jin forced himself to strip away such thoughts. He felt anger and hurt rushing like bile through him…mingled with regret and fear that his life was slipping out of his control…Hwoarang was slipping out of his fingers. Closing the books before him, Jin bound them in the leather strap, rising hastily from the library desk. If the Blood Talon was not coming for him…he would have to come for the Blood Talon…now..or never.

Hwoarang panted thickly, sweat glistening and dripping from his features as dirty bare feet repeatedly struck combinations against the sand bag suspended from the center of the ceiling. He had been going at the swaying adversary for three hours, working form against the thick material as though it owed him money..or respect. Saatchi and Han passed by occasionally in the beginning, commenting to each other on the tenacity at which Hwoarang attacked, as though something inside of their leader had shifted…had returned to a former glory with a new found violence.

The Blood Talon paid his street demons no mind as the comments wafted in. It had been an hour or more since the last one flitted past him and he recalled something about the duo riding to the airport to pick up Chang, another of the ranks freshly in from Korea.

Nothing mattered to Hwoarang over the past three days..nothing but punishing the sagging sand bag..punishing it for all of his sins…for all of Jins words. He barely left the house, unless it was to hustle…or to fight Gan Ryu to delicious victory, putting himself one step closer to his lover on the tournament rung…to defeat him and the angst that flowed in the Blood Talons own veins.

_Why did he have to say it? Fuck! _A vicious hook kick drew the bag towards Hwoarangs body, twisting it cruelly on the chain, the groan of overburdened plaster from above leaking into the room.

_God Damn it…its bad enough he had us labeled into some kind of unrealistic relationship…Shit, I am no ones boyfriend…I don't do…relationships…_ The Hook kick relinquished turned into a reverse crescent, sending dust from the plaster above skittering down onto the already filthy floor….

_How could he change the game on me? How could he tell me…he is falling for me…Come on, none of this should even be happening…none of it…I should have controlled myself better…should have told him and his pretty face to fuck off when I had the chance…but no, I had to let him into that room…why did I have to want it that bad…want him…that bad…._

Hwoarang threw himself into a move he coined as the Total Outrage, switching stance with agile motion, sending a flurry of kicks into the defeated bag as he cried out his spirit shout, feeling the power of his legs connect with vinyl. The Blood Talon looked up, sweat dripping down his features when he heard footsteps trotting up to the second floor, toward his chambers. Just what he needed, Saatchi or Han…one had gone to the airport, the other remained behind to torment him some more. Had he not proven himself a thousand times over in the past three days by taking both talented martial artists on at the same time…to show the den…who the true leader of the pride was? Had both of his compatriots not suffered enough injury for one day? Why did they insist on pissing him off?

The Blood Talon stepped away from the bag, grasping his deep blue towel and draping it around his shoulders, signaling to himself the pause in training. His fingers grasped a water bottle, drawing the half empty plastic to his lips and gulping down the room temperature libation. The footsteps stopped before his door, pushing open what Hwoarang had closed and bringing instant aggrevation to the Blood Talons already smirking features.

Turning angry amber eyes to the intruder, Hwoarang gasped…in shock. Why didn't he see this coming?

Jin stood in the doorway of Hwoarangs room, hands folded neatly into the pockets of his school uniform slacks. He had come in to the run down building the Blood Talon called home after watching to see Saatchi and Han leaving at light speed for the open road. He admitted, he stalked the area for over an hour debating what to do…and when his window of opportunity arose, he took it with speed and determination.

"I saw no one was here but you, so I let myself in…I hope you don't mind." Jin said guardedly as he let the image of Hwoarang wash over him. His strength, his weakness bound in one human, sweating form. The Blood Talon was beauty to him, his dobuk open and exposing his perfect torso and chest, sweat dripping from the blue headband that kept his drenched coppery tendrils from invading his eyes.

Hwoarang gathered his shock around him, pursing his lips in arrogant fashion. "Breaking and entering, Kazama..how the mighty have fallen?" He scoffed, lifting the water bottle to his lips once more though his eyes did not leave Jins. He could have drown in those sable orbs, he wanted to…he wanted to leap into those mirky depths…but pride and reality were his opponents in such a hasty move.

"I guess your rubbing off on me." Jin said simply, stepping over the threshold and leaning against the doorjamb with his cashmere covered left shoulder. "Been training hard? I..I heard you put a deep hurt on Gan Ryu…that is not easy through so much…body mass."

"That is not why you're here, so lets cut the small talk." Hwoarang barked with characteristic impatience. "Come on and say what that proper head of yours is begging to get out."

Jin flinched but instantly stiffened up, cocking his head to the side with a sudden sense of his own arrogance. "You have not been around, Hwoarang. So, I figured I would come looking for you…and get some answers."

Hwoarang lifted the edge of his deep blue towel, wiping his flushed, sweating features. "Is that so? What answers do you want from me…exactly, Kazama."

"Where have you been?" Jin said simply but powerfully. There was a depth of bass in the Japanese youths voice even he had not noticed before.

"I have had a full dance card, baby. My life does not revolve around you…so, next question." Hwoarang said with full, dripping venom. He had to admit he was impressed when Jin did not even skip a beat.

"Why havent you come looking for me…come to find me…its been three days." Jin said, cracking his neck.

"What am I, your babysitter?" Hwoarang chided with a roll of his eyes. "Three days? Glad to see your keeping count. Look, about this little relationship thing you think we have…the dream is over, Kazama…truth be told, your not that good of a fuck anyway." The Blood Talon was a little shocked at his own tenacity, even if he did want to drive Jin further away…he knew his words were tougher than they needed to be.

Jin straightened up hearing that, feeling the slice of the Koreans words into his very soul. It hurt, instantly…made the Japanese youths skin crawl and his eyes darken from sable to abysmal black depths. "So that is how it is then…just like that." He said, brows arching demonically as black ink spread itself down Jins arms, visible now for the first time from the rolled up sleeves of his cashmere blue sweater. Anger and pain skirted through him…

"What the fuck do you want baby? A good bye kiss…one last fuck? Do yourself a favor and get out of my place before the paramedics carry you out, pretty rich boy. I don't have time to play your goddamn games." Hwoarang added salt to that wound he found opening in Jins eyes. Tossing the towel down next to the bed, the Blood Talon scoffed at the scene and turned once more to look Jin over…those black etchings catching his eyes as he found Jin moving closer to him as if daring him for that rematch.

"What the fuck is happening to your skin?" The Blood Talon made out, backing up slightly as the markings seemed to drip and take on a life of their own, thick and black, screaming maliciousness.

Jin tilted his head to the side as though he could not hear, drawing ever closer to the fiery Korean. His mind had snapped, shifted into something deeper, something demonic….as though a very part of his soul was now freed by the pain of Hwoarangs rejection, the agony of loving someone who does not love you in return.

Hwoarangs calves hit the edge of the bed and he could go no further lest he crawled upon it like a frightened child facing the terrors of the darkness. He would not do so, he would not debase and subject himself to fear…but Jin…did not feel like Jin…in this moment…and it was starting to freak the fiery upstart to a dangerous level. "I am warning you, Kazama…"

Jin was completely silent as he grasped Hwoarangs arm, met by a flurry of up close kicks as the Korean youth tried desperately to ring free of Kazamas grip. Nothing seemed to phase him…no kick could connect hard enough up close to do enough damage to push him off. Eyes once chocolate brown, warm were now replaced by flickering black abysmal depths, the fingers of lightning forking from iris to pupil…and Hwoarang ceased to struggle.

Something frightening evil was deep in Jins gaze and The Blood Talon was helpless, hopeless to break free of the entrancement.

In that instant of Hwoarangs surrender, Jin released him, pushing the Blood Talon back onto the bed, standing over the edge like a specter of death. Hwoarang scurried back on the mattress, horrified, pale as a ghost as Jin stood in total silence, arm still outstretched as though continually pushing the Blood Talon backward. "What the fuck…" Hwoarang screamed, feeling his spine brace against the filthy wall below the window.

Jin lowered his arm and brought it before his eyes as though inspecting it, half cocking a smile so rife with malicious arrogance it sent a staunch chill through the room. The Japanese youth seemed pleased with the discovery, the glinting edge of nails that had elongated meeting his inspection. His eyes turned once more to Hwoarang, who remained speechless, shivering, cornered like a rat in a cats hunt.

Kazama Jin snickered and turned, striding with slow motions toward the door…stepping through the threshold like a spirit who floated above the ground, the edges of his jacket kicking up behind him on an unseen wind…leaving behind…a momento.


	11. Chapter 11

Epilogue

The First Crack in the Metal shows the impurity of Design

Heihachi Mishima sat before his rosewood desk, a snifter of brandy gripped in one hand, the amber liquid swirling lightly against the cool, polished glass. He sat for long moments, looking down at the book sprawled out before him, rereading the same passages with vacant eyes.

_So, it is true then. Kazama Jin has not only inherited Kazuyas vehemence but his darkness as well. Son of the Devil. Son of a bitch. Heihachi cursed. And living right beneath my nose, supping from my table, learning an art that is no longer a right but a theft. The living embodiment of the Devil Gene…was sharing my every day breath. I have cut off the proverbial head of my own son and now the hydra returns, encased in the body of my grandson. _

Heihachi rose and began to pace along the confines of his home office. For the past four days, he could keep nothing on his mind but this discovery. The tournament roster was awaiting his approval, the arrangements for the finals would have to be made…a massive undertaking to another continent. Toshin had not fallen for the trap, had not been lured to Japan. Refusing to be thwarted in capturing his prey, the gathering was moving to South America.

And one way or another, Jin Kazama, Heihachis' perfect bait, was going to be on that plane.

Taking a draught of brandy, Heihachi turned and looked once more at his desk. The roster lay beside a stack of hastily closed books…his research. It was then the idea came to him, tugged a smile at his thin, wizened lips. He would evoke the right as previous King of Iron Fist…to replace his slot in the semi finals.

Kazama Jin would fight in his stead, reducing the matches down from 2 to 1. Jin would fight the winner of the first draft semi final…and the winner of that match would come to Heihachi himself.

Two competitors remained. The American Judo fighter, Paul Pheonix and the Korean upstart, Hwoarang. It was time for the metaphorical show to commence.

_Oh, Kazuya. A shame your blood once more must meet an end at my hands. The whole of your boy is worth less than the sum of his parts…the sum of his blood, his genetics, the foul curse that will be my boon. His destruction, my salvation._

And, with that, Heihachi smiled. No matter the outcome of the tournament, only he would be coming back, alive.

_To Be Continued……_


End file.
